


Cocktail

by Tari_Sue



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Modern with Magic, Cocktail, Implied Mpreg, Implied/Referenced Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, M/M, Magic, Modern Era, Movie AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-31
Updated: 2018-03-31
Packaged: 2019-04-07 09:46:13
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 29,372
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14078181
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tari_Sue/pseuds/Tari_Sue
Summary: His bartending skills are magic – shame about his love life





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [LFB72](https://archiveofourown.org/users/LFB72/gifts).
  * Inspired by [Art: Cocktail](https://archiveofourown.org/works/14082750) by [LFB72](https://archiveofourown.org/users/LFB72/pseuds/LFB72). 



> Loosely based on the movie Cocktail for Reel Merlin 2018.
> 
> All the hugs to LFB72, whose idea this was – your art is amazing and wonderful and I am so happy you wanted to work with me again!
> 
> A million thank yous to Camelittle for betaing this and fixing all my schoolgirl errors, you are a saint and those virtual cookies I promised are on their way!

Pt1

“Come on, mate, what was the point of moving to London if you never go out?” Will puts his feet up on the bar stool opposite, dropping them again guiltily at the raised-eyebrow glare from Gaius on the other side of the bar.

Merlin shakes his head as he drapes the towel he’d been using to polish the glasses over the top of the pumps. “I’ve got to work, Will. I can’t expect Uncle Gaius to put me up for nothing.”

“But I came all the way from Ealdor to see you – M4 on a saturday morning mate, not fun. We’re young, we should be out having fun! You’ve been moping ever since Freya went back to the States.”

He has _not_ been moping! Is he not allowed to at least be a little bit sad that his girlfriend of three years moved back to America? “I—” Merlin starts. 

“Oh for goodness sake.” Gaius pulls the cloth off the pumps with a sigh. “Will you two get out from under my feet?”

Merlin jumps guiltily and looks at his uncle. “I thought you needed me to work?”

Gaius gestures to the half-empty pub. “Do we really look busy to you, Merlin?”

There are maybe half a dozen patrons in The Skiving Scholar – an old fashioned pub that Merlin’s ex, Freya, always referred to as an ‘old-timer bar’. It’s not good for a Saturday night, he’s not even sure how Gaius affords the overheads on this place, let alone Merlin’s salary. 

“I can look after this place. You could go and put your feet up,” he replies, feeling guilty. 

“Just go out, enjoy yourself.” Gaius opens the till and hands over some cash. “Will is right, you are young, Merlin. You should be having fun. This old place will be just fine.”

Merlin nods his thanks and goes to grab his jacket and wallet. He needs to find a proper job rather than practically sponging off Uncle Gaius, but he’s been struggling to find a full time job since finishing Uni in the summer. Tomorrow, he vows, tomorrow will be his lucky day. Or maybe Monday.

“Yes! Come on, we’re getting changed.” Will is bouncing from one foot to the other like an over-excited puppy.

“Why do we need to get changed?” Merlin looks down at himself. Casual jeans, vintage Nirvana t-shirt – too scruffy for a job interview, maybe, but he looks good enough to go out for a couple of drinks with Will.

“We are going on the pull, mate. I’m going to be your wingman, and we are going to get you laid. And it is not going to happen if you look like that.” Will ignores the strangled croaking sound Gaius makes behind them and drags Merlin to the upstairs flat. 

Merlin has a feeling he will end up regretting this.

Even though he’s been living in the city for just over a month now, Merlin hasn’t really been out much. Partly because he can’t afford it, but also because he misses Freya. Their breakup was amicable, they are still friends and he doesn’t regret his decision not to follow her back to Connecticut; that doesn’t mean he doesn’t miss her. 

Will has a certain genius for finding a good drinking hole, and tonight he’s dragged Merlin to the Mercia Arms. Merlin’s magic is fizzing inside him in the way it does when something good is happening. There is music pumping full volume out into the street and the drinks are half-price, and what more could two recent students ask for on a cold November night. 

“Pussy!” Will has to yell at the top of his lungs to be heard. “We need to get you laid!”

Merlin cringes and quickly glances around him to see who might have heard. A tall brunette next to them casts them both a disgusted glare and goes to stand further away. “Sorry!” Merlin calls after her, but she only glares harder over her shoulder like it had been him talking rather than Will. “You can’t go around yelling things like that!” he hisses at Will, punching him lightly on the arm. 

“What? I’m being a lad, girls love it!” Will flashes his best cheeky grin at a pretty blonde girl across the room, and to Merlin’s chagrin she giggles and smiles back. “See, I’m in there!” Will says smugly. 

Merlin shakes his head in disbelief. Typical, Will is a sexist prick yet Merlin gets glared at and Will gets all smiles and kisses.

Sighing, he goes back to trying to attract the barman’s attention. To be honest, he wouldn’t say no to trying to attract the barman full stop – shoulder-length, glossy brown hair, just the right amount of stubble… 

Unfortunately, the man seems to be run off his feet and Merlin doesn’t rate his chances of getting served any time soon. Will, meanwhile, has gone off to chat up the bubbly blonde and is already cozied up beside her.

“Penny for ‘em.”

Merlin jumps and is startled to find the sexy barman grinning at him. His magic is buzzing so loudly now he can barely think; it hasn’t been this bad since he first met Freya. He glances about him, the bar is still heaving, but for some reason it seems to finally be his turn in the queue. “Um, two beers please.”

Sexy Barman raises an eyebrow at him and smirks. “Any beer in particular or just whatever horsepiss I feel like?” Irish accent, if Merlin didn’t think he was perfect before…

He shrugs and attempts a smile, not wanting to speak and completely embarrass himself.

“Right.” The barman grins at him. “Horsepiss it is then.” He dumps one bottle of branded beer on the bar.

“Um, I asked for two?” 

The barman nods and adds a glass of white wine, which only confuses Merlin more. Sexy Barman sends a meaningful look across the room to where Will is getting cosy with the blonde girl. “I think you’ve been dumped, mate.”

Merlin groans and only refrains from banging his head on the bar because it is sticky. “I only came out because he made me.”

“Ah, the plaintive cry of the lonely wingman.” Sexy Barman grins at him again. 

“I’m pretty sure he was supposed to be my wingman.” Merlin sighs. He loves Will, they’ve been best friends since they were in nappies, but sometimes he really hates him too.

“Single then?” Sexy Barman raises his eyebrows in a way that suggests not only is he surprised, he could be the one to fix that. Merlin’s magic happily agrees. The rest of Merlin is far from against it too. He doesn’t answer, not trusting himself not to say something stupid and ruin the whole thing before it starts.

“Here, I have just the thing to ease your woes.” Sexy Barman turns and starts picking up the sort of bottles with startling colours that Uncle Gaius definitely does not keep in his old-timer pub. He grins over his shoulder at Merlin and expertly flips one of the bottles in the air before pouring it into a cocktail shaker. Merlin watches fascinated as he works, finally pouring the pinkish red monstrosity into a tumbler, garnishing it with a cherry on a stick and putting it down in front of Merlin. 

“I didn’t order that… whatever it is.”

Sexy Barman winks at him. “It’s called a Mai Tai, and it’s on the house. I’m Gwaine, by the way.” And he goes off to serve the next person.

Merlin begrudgingly takes the two drinks over to Will and the poor girl he has set his sights on, before heading back to the bar for his own drink. He perches on one of the stools, sipping on his cocktail and watching Gwaine work for a while. 

Gwaine is fun to watch. Despite appearing laid-back, he actually seems to work pretty hard, but he puts on a real show as he does so, flipping bottles and charming the customers. The other barman, a grumpy-looking older man with a beard, keeps glowering at Gwaine as he shows off, but he doesn’t seem to have noticed that Gwaine has served twice as many customers in the same time – helped by the fact that most of the customers would rather be served by Gwaine.

Eventually, as the crowd starts to thin, Merlin watches Gwaine mix a bright green drink, spinning bottles with a flourish. He puts the drink down in front of Merlin. “Bergamot Mojito. I’ll have to at least charge you the price of that beer you wanted for this one. If Bayard notices I’m giving free drinks, he’ll fire me. He doesn’t need much of an excuse.”

“Of course!” Merlin scrabbles for his wallet and blindly hands over money to Gwaine, foolishly trusting him to give him the correct change and hoping the other man can’t feel the jolt of magic when their fingers briefly touch. He can almost hear Gaius tutting at him in his head. 

“So, you never told me your name.” Gwaine is definitely flirting with him. Merlin is not stupid, he knows that this is what bartenders do to encourage tips, but he is pretty sure the best looking bloke he’s ever seen is genuinely flirting with him.

“Merlin,” he says, before attempting to hide his blush by taking a long sip of his drink and nearly choking himself. Classy, Merlin, really classy.

“So, Merlin, what do you do when you’re not beautifying my place of work?” The line is as cheesy as hell, but he’s pretty sure Gwaine can get away with saying things that would just make other men feel stupid for even thinking.

If it’s even possible, Merlin’s face gets redder. “Um, well I just finished my MA, but actually I work in my Uncle’s bar.”

Gwaine laughs. “A fellow barman, eh? Is it anywhere I might have heard of?”

Merlin shakes his head. “I really doubt it. It’s the Skiving Scholar? To be honest, I’m looking for something else.”

“Bartending not good enough for you?”

“Oh no! Not that, it’s just he doesn’t really need the extra staff, and I’d rather pay my own way, you know? Unfortunately, there isn’t much call for a degree in Ancient History coupled with an MA in Celtic Mythology.”

“So you’re not looking for more bar work? Because I could put in a good word here – Elly tripped up the cellar steps last week and broke her wrist, so now the manager, Bayard, is having to work the bar and he’s terrible at it.” Gwaine nods over at the grumpy looking man. “It would only be till Elly gets better, of course, although to be honest, she’d much rather work with horses, they’re harder to drop than drinks.”

“Oh no, I don’t think I could do all that fancy stuff you do.”

Gwaine grins. “I could teach you. How about you stay after closing and I run you through your paces? Your friend already left, anyway.” The grin turns into the filthiest leer Merlin’s ever seen and he has to wonder just what sort of ‘paces’ Gwaine has in mind.

Broken glass. 

Everywhere. 

And Gwaine is laughing at him.

“It’s ok, look, you need to hold it like this.” Gwaine moves to stand behind him, positioning Merlin’s hands more firmly around the bottle, his breath tickling Merlin’s neck. “Now try and flip it.” 

The heat from where Gwaine is pressed up against him is nearly distracting as Merlin’s magic doing it’s own little flips and swirls inside him. It would be so easy to just turn his head to the side… 

Concentration broken, the bottle lands on the floor. Just as well they are starting with empties.

He pulls himself away from Gwaine and shakes his head to try and clear his thoughts. “I think maybe this isn’t the right job for me.”

Gwaine grins. “If I’m completely honest with you – this part is not actually in the job description. In fact, Bayard hates me doing it.”

Merlin looks at Gwaine and then down at the mess on the floor of the Mercia. “Then what the hell am I smashing bottles for?”

Gwaine at least has the grace to look a little sheepish. “Ah, well now, to be fair, I never actually told you to smash them.” He shrugs and grins at Merlin. “But it was fun teaching you.”

Merlin looks mournfully back down at the broken bottles. “Sure about that, are you?”

Gwaine quirks an eyebrow and smirks at him before letting his eyes roam down to the skinny jeans Freya had once bought him and Will had insisted he wear. “Well I’m certainly enjoying the view. Look, I already spoke to Bayard. He said you can come in tomorrow for a proper trial – I’m assuming you don’t mind working Sundays?”

“Working Sundays is part of the job. So I don’t need to learn this?” He waves the last intact bottle at Gwaine.

Gwaine picks up a dustpan and brush and busies himself with sweeping up the glass. “Sorry to waste your time.” He doesn’t look sorry at all as he crosses the room and tips the shards into a bin. “Let me make it up to you.”

“Wait, no.” Merlin moves forward and puts his hand on Gwaine’s arm. “I mean, this has been fun. Clearly I’m crap at it, but it was a laugh.”

“Fun?” Gwaine turns and his face is suddenly right there, next to Merlin’s. “Is that what you’re looking for?” 

Gwaine kisses like he does everything else, a little slapdash, a little aggressive, cheeky as hell. And yeah, a little fun sounds exactly what Merlin needs. Gwaine’s stubbley beard tickles and burns in a way that sends an exciting buzz through him, his magic itching to get out. He tastes slightly of whisky and cigarettes; Merlin normally loathes cigarettes, but he can’t get enough of kissing Gwaine, angling his head to the side slightly to stop their noses crashing together.

He’s always known he was attracted to men as well as women, but he he’s not had much chance to explore this side of himself; he’s only ever actually dated one person, Freya, and they were together for three years, the whole time he should have been experimenting at Uni. He’d loved Freya, loves her still, and would never change his time with her, but it’s time for something new. Gwaine is so much different to Freya, to anyone he’s ever met, and he’s not about to let this opportunity pass him by. 

Gwaine breaks off to catch his breath. His arms are looped around Merlin’s waist, keeping him close. “My place is just down the street.”

Ignoring the blush he can feel creeping over his own face, Merlin nods.

“Are you holding it right? I don’t think that’s how you are supposed to do it.” Will casts a critical eye over the mess at Merlin’s feet. “Here, let me try.”

Will is, of course, better at this whole stupid bottle trick that Merlin. “You know, you should try this with liquid in them, it’ll alter the balance.”

Will’s success soon ends as the cellar door crashes open and the bottle joins the others on the floor.

“Merlin? What on earth…? I thought we were being burgled!” The look of outrage on Gaius’s face might almost have been funny if Merlin were not standing in the barrel store amid another sea of broken glass. 

“I… er…” 

“He’s trying to impress this new bloke he has his eye on,” Will says, letting out a slight ‘oof’ as Merlin elbows him in the ribs. Will has known Merlin wasn’t completely straight ever since they were thirteen and he’d caught him… _admiring_ … a picture of David Beckham, so he’s taken the whole Gwaine thing in his stride. And the impressive stubble burn Merlin was currently sporting made it all a bit hard to deny.

“No, don’t tell me, I don’t think I want to know. Get this mess cleared up.” Gaius shakes his head as he turns to leave, muttering under his breath as he goes. “Oh.” He turns at the top of the stairs. “And William, I’m afraid I don’t allow members of the public into the barrel store, health and safety. Merlin can clear this up on his own, please.” He gestures for Will to leave.

Will casts an apologetic look at Merlin before leaving with Gaius. Merlin sighs and whispers a quick spell to clear away the broken glass. 

It is only then, as he watches the bottles reform and put themselves back into the crates for the brewery that he realises he’s being daft. Of course! Magic! Why hadn’t he thought of it before?

Glancing at the door to make sure Gaius is not about to come in, Merlin silently levitates two bottles. Uncle Gaius has always been such a worry wart about this sort of thing, don’t use magic, Merlin, someone might see you, yada yada. 

But surely, if he could make it subtle, just so it looked like he was doing what Gwaine was doing, no one would need to know… right?

He watches as two then three then five bottles spin around by themselves in a perfect circle. Yeah, completely realistic. Alright, so maybe not that then. 

Sending all but one of the bottles back to where they came from, he tries to flip it in the air. The bottle fails to flip over and starts to fall too quickly. He uses his magic to slow time, just a fraction, and then to pull the bottle towards his hand. A small laugh escapes him as the bottle lands in his hand and not on the floor for the first time. 

Still chuckling, he tries again. The bottle goes up, slows down to Merlin’s eyes, he gives it a little push with his magic so it goes a little higher, spins once, and lands perfectly in his hand. 

Why on earth has he been trying this the hard way? He throws the bottle again.

“Merlin!” Gaius’s voice once again makes him jump and his magic only saves the bottle from landing on the floor by millimeters. 

“Gaius!” He guiltily puts on his best smile, a technique that works for Will but never for Merlin. “Um, hi. I didn’t hear you come back.”

“Just as well it was me and not someone else.” Gaius nods towards the bottle that is still suspended just off the floor. 

“Erm…” Merlin lets the bottle finish its drop to the floor where it rolls away to nestle beside one of the barrels. “I was just… uh…” He can’t think of a single good excuse.

“I’m waiting.”

“I’m hoping to get a job at that fancy bar down the road. The barman there can do this fancy thing where he flips the bottles and stuff.” And the barman is the hottest guy in London, but Gaius probably wouldn’t appreciate that bit of information.

“So you thought you’d cheat?” There is is again, the eyebrow of disapproval. Gaius wears that expression so much around Merlin that he has to wonder if the eyebrow can even come back down to the same level as the other one any more.

“I tried doing it the hard way!” Merlin gestures to the pile of bottles, which are suspiciously now intact once more.

“Yes, I saw.” The eyebrow might actually have grown more disapproving.

“It’s just a little bit of magic, Gaius. No one would know.” Merlin sighs and scrubbs his hand through his hair. Gaius is such an old worry wart. Who cares if Merlin has a little bit of magic?

“I knew, I saw it straight away.” Gaius comes down into the room so he can glare at Merlin properly. 

“Yes, but you caught me off guard! And you know I’m clumsy. And about the magic.”

“Fine, show me.” Gaius sounds weary, which makes Merlin feel guilty. 

“What?”

“Your little magic trick.” Gaius gestures to the bottles. “Show me.”

“Um. Ok.” Merlin goes over and picks up the fallen bottle, deciding that simply summoning it to him would incur Gaius’s wrath even further. He performs the trick again, holding it right, flipping it up, slowing time, drawing it to him. “Ta da!”

Gaius completely fails to be impressed. “And how exactly did you achieve that?”

“Um… well, I sort of slowed time a bit and, made it spin, then summoned it to me slightly. Could you tell it was magic? If you didn’t know?”

If possible, Gaius’s eyebrows have risen so far up his head it almost looks like he has a fringe. “You slowed time?” 

Merlin nods.

“Merlin…” Gaius rubs his forehead – no doubt constantly having his eyebrow raised like that is giving him a headache. “Do you have any idea how powerful that magic is? Just for a circus trick?”

“Well, um…” It doesn’t _feel_ powerful to Merlin, if anything, it is the sort of thing he is liable to do just when not paying attention, and was the sort of trick that used to save him from getting a rugby ball to the face at school when he was forced to play in P.E. 

“If anyone caught you doing that, do you have any idea what sort of trouble you’d be in? The Archbishop of Camelot has been riling people up against magic folk for years, they’d lynch you in the street.”

“The Archbishop and his right-wing cronies would already hate me for being Bi, what is one more thing?” He’s just putting on a brave face here, the idea of the Archbishop and his sycophantic lickspittles scares the hell out of him.

“Merlin…”

“Could you tell?” Merlin interrupts. He doesn’t need Gaius’s approval, but he wants it anyway.

“What?” Gaius looks put out at stopping his tirade before he’d even started.

“That I’d used magic? If you didn’t know, would you be able to tell?”

Gaius looks thoughtful for a moment. “Show me again.”

The Sunday shift is just a straightforward night of bar work. Definitely busier than working at Gaius’s, but not as busy as the Saturday had been. The main problem is not Merlin’s lack of juggling skills, but more his lack of cocktail knowledge. No one ever asked for a cocktail in the Scholar.

So, basically, he’s spent the last five days, when he hasn’t been with Gwaine, learning how to make cocktails with the help of Google and Will. He’s also been practising with the bottles.

Now, a week after he first met Gwaine, Merlin is working in the Mercia and has not plucked up the courage to try his own bottle spinning trick in front of anyone, aside from Gaius and Will. Perhaps he’ll save that for a quieter night, but now, on a busy Saturday night, Gwaine is happily showing off for a bunch of girls on a hen do.

“Gwaine, do you have more vodka over there?” he calls over as the last bottle on his side runs dry. He’ll have to go down to the cellar for more, but he’d like to just get this order complete for the guy across the bar who seems to think he’s James Bond and has asked for a Vodka Martini. 

He doesn’t expect the bottle to come flying towards him, and he slows time on instinct as he suddenly realises what Gwaine has done. He looks up, shocked, bottle in his hand, to see Gwaine smirking at him. He shakes himself and hopes the magic went unnoticed before casually flipping the bottle like nothing happened. He can still feel Gwaine smirking from across the room.

“Very impressive.” Gwaine is wiping down the bar after closing and still smirking at Merlin. “You’ve been practising.”

“Ok fine!” Merlin looks up from where he’s loading the dishwasher. “Yes, of course I’ve been practising. I told you, I need the job.” He quickly goes back to the glasses so he can’t see Gwaine laugh at him.

“The job, eh?” It doesn’t work; Merlin can feel that smirk from across the room. “Didn’t I already tell you you didn’t need to do the juggling thing?”

“Yes,” Merlin says, head still inside the dishwasher.

“So.” Gwaine sounds closer now. “Fancy showing off your, uh, talents…?”

Merlin finally turns around and closes the dishwasher.

Gwaine is gorgeous. He is easily the most beautiful person, man or woman, that Merlin has ever actually seen close up. He’s also kind, funny, exciting, interesting. As far as Merlin can tell, Gwaine is pretty bloody perfect. 

So here’s the thing, why on earth would someone like that be interested in skinny, clumsy, completely imperfect Merlin? 

Merlin, who has odd socks on because he can never be bothered to find a proper pair. Merlin, who only had a clean shirt for his first shift because Gaius ironed him one. Merlin, whose idea of a perfect night is a pizza and Dr Who boxset. Merlin, who could do with a haircut but won’t go until his fringe is actually obstructing his view and will then get it cut as short as possible because he hates going to the barbers.

And yet, Sir Gwaine the Perfect is standing there, looking at Merlin like he’s something special. Merlin honestly thought that it would be a one-time thing with someone like Gwaine, that he was just a minor distraction for a Saturday night before something, or someone, better came along. But Gwaine doesn’t seem to be tiring of him, and that is slightly short-circuiting Merlin’s brain. 

“I’ll have a Singapore Sling, when you’re ready.” Gwaine picks up a half-full bottle of Bombay Sapphire and weighs it up in his hand. Merlin is ready for it this time when Gwaine throws it to him, slowing time and catching it easily, just as he had practised. 

Singapore Sling, he can do this. Grenadine, gin, cointreau, benedictine, cherry brandy, lime… He made Will and himself very ill on cocktails last week, and Gaius is going to kill him when he discovers just how low his spirit stocks have gone, but it’s worth it.

He grabs a cocktail shaker and fills it with ice. Then, not breaking eye-contact with Gwaine, he flips the bottle, turns it over and pours it in. Grabbing the other ingredients as he goes, he does his best to copy the tricks he’s seen Gwaine do, finally, skimming a glass across the bar and tossing the shaker to him. “Pour your own drink, the bar’s closed.” And he returns Gwaine’s own smirk.

Gwaine throws his head back and laughs. “Nicely done, you’re a quick study.” He upends the shaker into the glass and takes a long, slow drink, his adam’s apple bobbing as he does so. Merlin can’t help but lick his lips. “Want some?” Gwaine asks, indicating the cocktail.

Merlin walks over and, instead of trying the drink, kisses Gwaine, tasting mostly the cointreau but also the hints of the other flavours starting to come through. “Not bad, not bad at all.” He licks his lips.

Gwaine laughs. “Come on, let’s finish up here. Coming back to mine?”

Ok, so here’s the thing. Merlin _loves_ his new job. Well, parts of it.

He’d never thought, all the times he helped out in Uncle Gaius’s pub, that he end up loving bar work, but working with Gwaine is one of the best things he’s ever done.

The pub itself is nothing special; they offer two-for-one cocktails and cheap beer to students and young professionals, no finesse required, and the boss would rather they served the drinks quick and cheap. Gwaine, however, raises the bar (no pun intended). His cocktails are good, better than good. Even though it is the cheapness of the alcohol that draws the punters in, word is starting to spread about the two showoff barmen, and cocktails are in high demand. 

Bayard, however, is not happy. “Just serve the drinks quickly. We don’t have time for all this showing off. Get them done and move onto the next one.”

“But we’re making you money hand over fist!” Merlin is just repeating something Gwaine has already said at least a million times. “You are selling way more cocktails now than you used to!”

“The cocktails are selling because they are two for one, not because you two are showing off for the girls. Just do the job I’m paying you to do.” Bayard gives one last glare to each of them. “And while we’re on the subject, I see the looks you two give each other all shift, cut it out. What you get up to behind closed doors is your own business, don’t bring it into mine.” And with that he goes back into his office, leaving the door open so he can see everything.

Gwaine shrugs. “Best do as the man says.” He squeezes Merlin’s arm on the way past. “I’m going for a fag.” It’s the one thing about Gwaine he’d change if he could – the stale smell of cigarettes that hangs around him. Can’t be picky though, Gwaine is still the best thing that’s ever happened to him.

It’s still early, and it’s Wednesday, so not too many customers in yet. Even so, Elly is struggling to cope without them; it’s only her second day back. Her left arm is still in plaster to the elbow, and they’ve pretty much been running on a system where Gwaine and Merlin serve the drinks and Elly takes the money, but she’s been trying to do everything by herself one-handed whilst Bayard was yelling at Gwaine and Merlin, as the sea of lager on the floor testifies.

“Sorry, El, I’m back now,” he says, grabbing the beer pump she’s trying to operate with her broken hand. 

“Thanks.” She grins at him before taking the customer’s money. “Where’s Gwaine?”

Merlin wrinkles his nose. “Smoking out the back.” 

Elly laughs. “Total chain smoker, isn’t he? I tried to get him to stop when we were dating, but it never worked.”

“You and Gwaine dated?” He doesn’t know why he feels so surprised, he knows Gwaine is bi, same as he is himself, and of course he dated people before Merlin. Perhaps it’s simply that Gwaine never said anything.

Her smile is a little tighter this time. “It would probably be quicker to try and list people Gwaine hasn’t dated.”

“Oh… right. A bit of a player, is he?” Merlin is starting to feel uneasy. He should have known Gwaine was too good to be true.

She half shrugs, half shakes her head. “Yes and no? I mean, Gwaine is one of my favourite people in the world. He’s just… a law unto himself?” Her laugh is a little forced.

“Right,” Merlin echoes, his own laugh sounding even more forced.

She looks at him and narrows her eyes. Suddenly, her eyes go wide again and she lets out a gasp. “Oh! Merlin, I’m so sorry, I didn’t realise you and Gwaine were together! Look, just ignore everything I said, I talk rubbish, everyone knows that.”

“It’s fine.”

“No, no, it’s not fine. Look, Gwaine is a wonderful, lovely, kind, generous person. He will do anything for anyone and he would never intentionally hurt anyone. Except maybe himself, I swear to you.”

“Must be some truth to it though, right? Or you wouldn’t be the ex.”

“No!” She shakes her head vehemently, making her blonde curls fly out. “Gwaine wasn’t having an affair or anything calculated like that, he just… met someone else. We were never that serious. If I’d been the right person for him, I’m sure it wouldn’t have happened.” 

“So I just have to hope I’m the right person so he won’t cheat on me?”

“He’s not a cheat, not really. He just likes to spread the love. I reckon you could be the one to tame the Gwaine.” Elly grins and goes to serve a customer.

Merlin shakes his head and starts pouring drinks. He hopes she’s right, but he still can’t shake the feeling that Gwaine is out of his league, and it won’t be long till he realises it. 

At that moment, Gwaine himself comes back in, the smell of cigarettes wafting in behind him. “What can I get you gorgeous ladies?” He sends his most flirtatious grin to a group of giggling women who have just entered.

Merlin’s stomach does a funny little flip-flop. Is he being foolish? He is probably far more invested in this that Gwaine is. Then, almost like he can hear Merlin’s thoughts from across the bar, Gwaine turns and winks at him. And just like that, Merlin’s stomach settles. Of course Gwaine is interested, it was him who pursued Merlin. He grins and goes back to work.

Saturday nights are the busiest. The customers seem a little disappointed that Merlin and Gwaine are not doing much in the way of tricks with the bottles tonight, as per Bayard’s instructions, but so far they are mostly sticking to the rules.

“What was that?” Merlin has to lean forward to hear what one of the customers is saying.

“I said are Merlin and Gwaine not on tonight?” He has long hair and a leather jacket that makes him look like he’s in a heavy metal band from the 1980s.

“I’m Merlin.” He could swear his magic actually recoils from the customer.

The man looks a little pissed off. “I was told you two were something special.”

Merlin feels somewhat affronted. “Thanks.”

“Well you are pretty enough, but there is nothing special about your bartending skills.” 

Merlin gives him a tight smile, reminding himself to be polite to customers. “What would you like?”

He runs his eyes over Merlin and smirks. “How about some Hanky Panky?”

Never taking his eyes off the rude customer, Merlin calls over his shoulder to Gwaine. “Gwaine, pass the sweet Vermouth.” He puts his hand up, hoping Gwaine will know what he means and trust him, his magic focusing in on the bottle flying towards him. “Coming right up, sir.” He catches it deftly, inwardly smirking at the shocked look on the customer’s face.

Merlin makes a show of mixing the cocktail, exchanging each bottle with Gwaine from the other side of the bar, although admittedly looking where he was throwing now. The crowd are happier now they are getting what they came for, and they cheer along everytime Merlin catches a bottle. No doubt the stuck up prat thought he wouldn’t know how to make this relatively simple but unfashionable drink. Setting it down on the bar with a flourish, he adds a slice of orange to the side of the glass and grins. Nothing special indeed.

Gwaine seems to have taken this as his cue to go back to his usual antics, and soon the crowd are cheering them on. Merlin catches sight of Bayard frowning from the door to his office, but they are too far gone to stop now.

As the evening draws to a close, most of the clientele have moved onto the pubs and clubs in the city. “Time ladies and gents please.” Gwaine rings the big bell behind the bar to alert the last few stragglers that it is time to go home.

The heavy metal guy from earlier is still at the end of the bar, and now it is quieter, he pushes a business card towards where Merlin is wiping down the bar.

“Sorry.” Merlin smiles and starts to push the card back, his magic still protesting at being near this bloke. “I have a boyfriend.” He glances over to where Gwaine is wiping down the bar.

“Pity.” The man makes a point of looking Merlin up and down. “But actually, I would like to offer you a job.”

“I already have one of those, too.” Merlin 

“The offer is for both of you,” the man says, his eyes following Merlin’s glance over to Gwaine. 

“What’s this?” Gwaine’s ears must have been burning because he comes over and picks up the business card. “Holy shite, _The_ Essetir? Really? The one in Soho?”

The man smirks in a way that makes Merlin feel like he needs a shower. “That’s the one. I was just telling your friend here, a job for both of you, if you want it. I’ll give you an extra ten per cent on whatever they are paying you here.”

“Ten per cent of next to nothing? Whoop-de-do.” Gwaine is watching Merlin. “Can we think about it or do you need an answer now?”

“How about you boys take the rest of the weekend to think about it, and give me a call on Monday, we’ll work out the details. Cenred Jones, you have my card.” With one last smirk, the man turns and saunters out of the bar.

“What do you think?” Gwaine asks, turning the card over in his hand like the answer might be printed on the back.

Merlin shrugs. “Could be a hoax. Why would a place like that want us? And that guy gives me the creeps.”

“Merlin, Merlin, Merlin.” Gwaine claps a hand down on Merlin’s shoulder. “The question you should be asking is why wouldn’t they want us? We are the hottest duo in bartending since Tom Cruise and that Australian bloke.”

Merlin opens his mouth to answer but is stopped by Bayard steaming towards them. “What did I tell you two about the circus tricks?”

“Circus tricks?” Gwaine rounds on him, picking up a bottle and waving it under Bayard’s nose. “Do you want to come over here and let me show you a few circus tricks? We packed that bar out tonight.”

“No, the two-for-one cocktails packed the bar out. All you two succeeded in doing was delaying people getting their drinks, by messing about.” Bayard is one of those people who showers everything in spittle when he shouts. Merlin takes a step back.

“That ‘messing about’ gets people to come back here rather than go to one of the countless other bars. And that ‘messing about’ made them stay for another round rather than moving onto the next place. Did you not hear the crowd? They loved us!” Gwaine is right up in the man’s face now, and Merlin is pretty sure it is just as well they have another job offer because they are both about to get fired.

“I am not running free entertainment for the great unwashed, here! Your job is to serve drinks and nothing more.”

Gwaine glances over at Merlin, a sort of apologetic look that says he’s already made his decision but he’s hoping for Merlin’s agreement anyway. Merlin sends back a wry grin and a slight nod.

Gwaine grins and turns back to Bayard. “Well then maybe you can take your job and shove it. There are plenty of bars in the city that will love to have barmen like us.”

“Fine. Collect your paychecks on your way out. And don’t think you can come running back here when you discover that no one wants a couple of timewasters like you on their staff.”

“Ok.” Merlin says. If Gwaine is getting him fired too, he might as well add his twopeneth. “And don’t you think you can come running to _us_ when you realise takings are down without us.” He throws down the bartowel he was holding and starts to walk away.

“Where do you think you’re going?” There is a little vein starting to pulse in Bayard’s forehead.

“You just fired us,” Merlin calls over his shoulder

“Actually, I’m pretty sure I quit for both of us,” Gwaine adds, turning to follow Merlin.

“Your shift is not over! There is still cleaning up to do!”

“I think you’ll find it is.” Gwaine catches up to Merlin and slings an arm around his shoulder. Merlin can feel the laughter trying to bubble up in Gwaine and it is suddenly infectious. He speeds up his walk so as not to start giggling in front of Bayard, but there is no way their laughter can’t be heard from the bar the moment they are out of sight.

“I guess we are calling creepy Cenred then?” Merlin says as the laughter dies down. 

Gwaine shrugs. “We can handle creepy Cenred. Don’t tell him we got fired, whatever you do. And let me do the talking. I’ll get us more money.” He shrugs on his jacket and then walks over to wrap his arms around Merlin’s waist and snog him senseless.

A cough behind them breaks them apart.

“I can’t believe you two splitters are abandoning me.” The grin on Elly’s face says she’d actually enjoyed the show.

“Sorry El.” And the grin on Gwaine’s face says he’s not sorry at all. 

She hugs them both. “I saw that biker guy give you his card, I’m assuming you have something lined up.”

Merlin nods, even though she can’t see him from where she has her head pressed into Gwaine’s chest. “Fancy-arse spot in Soho.”

Gwaine makes a hurumphing noise. “‘Fancy-arse spot’ indeed. It’s the Essi-fucking-tir! It’s the hottest bar in town.”

“Wow, seriously?” Elly has obviously heard of the place, even if Merlin has not. “Don’t suppose you can ask for a slightly clumsy part-time barmaid as part of your demands?”

“Hey, when you get your PhD, you will get a fabulous job and be drinking in the Essetir, you won’t think twice about us other than to fetch your order.” Gwaine plants a kiss on top of her head. 

“I’ll make sure to complain to the management because you two are performing circus tricks rather than serving my drink in a timely fashion.” She stands back and grins at them. “Just make sure you keep in touch, ok?”

“Right. He wants us to start Wednesday so we can get a proper feel for the place, and I managed to get us another five per cent on top and use of the flat upstairs for a knockdown rent. How does that sound?” Gwaine flicks his phone off and throws it down on the sofa beside him as Merlin sets down two cups of tea.

Use of the flat? Does this mean they’re moving in together? They spend most nights together anyway, but this relationship is still very new, and it might have been nice to have at least been asked.

“Sounds brilliant to me,” he says, perhaps a little tightly. He heads back into Gwaine’s kitchen to get their sandwiches.

“So, as we have a little bit of time, how about you tell me how you do this.” Gwaine is slouched back on the sofa in a seemingly nonchalant pose, but the way he’s watching Merlin suggests he’s anything but.

“Well, you get two bits of bread and put stuff in the middle. Ta dah, sandwich.” Merlin’s attempt at levity falls flat as he hands Gwaine his lunch. 

“See, the way I remember it is this.” Gwaine says, peeling back the bread to see what kind of sandwich Merlin has given him. “You were gorgeous, and I was trying to chat you up by teaching you to juggle bottles, but you were crap at it. Then, a week later, you could give me a run for my money. And then there was that thing on Saturday night, where you caught that bottle without even looking.”

“Yeah, um, I practised. A lot. Broke a lot of bottles.” Gaius was right, Merlin had been showing off and now Gwaine had sussed him. 

Gwaine nods and takes a bite of his sandwich, chewing thoughtfully. “But you don’t even hold the bottles right,” he says through a mouthful of crumbs. “You hold them by the middle, the weight should be off, you need to be closer to the base of the neck. They shouldn’t be able to spin like that, which means you should drop them. But they do spin, and you don’t drop them.”

“I… er…”

“My sister, back at home, she has this thing,” Gwaine carries on. “She can switch electronics on just by thinking really hard. Our ma always said she had the devil in her, wouldn’t let her tell a soul.”

“So what, you think I have the devil in me?”

Gwaine just looks at him and carries on eating.

Merlin sighs. “Fine. What do you want me to say? I can do magic?” He swallows, his throat suddenly dry. Things had been going too well, of course it all had to go wrong. “Right. Ok.”

Merlin rubs his hand over his eyes then flicks his hand towards Gwaine’s food.   
“Hey!” Gwaine sits up, a look of horror on his face as the second half of his sandwich vanishes from the plate. “I was eating that!”

Merlin rolls his eyes and stands up. He grabs an apple from the fruit bowl and tosses it to Gwaine. “What are you going to do?”

Gwaine’s watching him, and Merlin can’t read the expression on his face. “What else can you do?”

Merlin opens his mouth to reply but he’s feeling confused and doesn’t know what to say. Insead, he picks up the telly remote and flips it up into the air, making an obvious show of slowing it down in mid-air so he can catch it. “I wanted to impress you,” he admits. “I wanted you to like me.”

Gwaine is sitting on the sofa watching, thoughts of food forgotten. With a flash of his eyes, Merlin makes the cushions straighten themselves up. Gwaine leaps out of the chair, staring at it wide eyed like it tried to bite him. Merlin, unable to resist, straightens Gwaine’s hair. 

“Hey, not the hair!” Gwaine attempts to duck out of the way of Merlin’s magic. 

Merlin lets the magic die down, and just stands there, watching Gwaine, waiting to see what he will do. 

Gwaine crosses the room, and for a moment Merlin thinks he is about to get punched. It is with some surprise, therefore, that he suddenly finds himself pressed up against the wall with Gwaine kissing him.

“That just might be the hottest damn thing I ever saw,” Gwaine says, running his hands under Merlin’s shirt. 

“Really?” He shivers at the contact, every touch enhanced by the magic he still holds to a near painfulness that becomes exquisit. The relief that Gwaine is ok with this is so huge his legs almost give out beneath him, so that the only thing holding him upright is Gwaine.

“Hmm. I think I might need to take you into the bedroom and shag you, right now,” Gwaine says, his breath tickling over Merlin’s neck. “I am not going to be able to concentrate on anything after watching you doing that.”

“No objections to that plan here.” Merlin’s voice is perhaps a little wobbly, but who could blame him when Gwaine honestly looks like he’s about to eat him to make up for that half a sandwich. He finally lets go of his magic, the room losing a little brightness as he does so, and Gwaine’s touch becoming less intense, more bearable.

“Bedroom,” Gwaine’s voice is so low and rough it practically sounds like a growl and Merlin hastens to comply, a sudden rush of the giggles over taking him as he does. They crash onto the bed a tangle of limbs and Gwaine wastes no time in stripping Merlin of his clothes. 

Merlin scoots up the bed as Gwaine advances on him. “Aren’t you wearing to many clothes?” 

“Aren’t you talking too much?” As though to shut him, up, Gwaine reclaims Merlin’s mouth. His clothes feel rough against Merlin’s overheating bare skin and he really wants to insist that Gwaine takes them off, but he can’t seem to find either the breath or the brain power to form actual words.

Gwaine reaches over to the bedside drawer and grabs lube and a condom. He wastes no time, kissing his way down Merlin’s body till he reaches his cock and then taking him in his mouth. Freya had never been a big fan of doing this, but Gwaine seems to love giving a blow job nearly as much as he loves receiving one. 

Sex is always like this with Gwaine; fast and exciting. Merlin’s experience with men is so limited that he has to wonder if it is just a difference between sleeping with a man and sleeping with a woman, or if this gung-ho attitude is just Gwaine. With Freya everything had been so much softer and gentler, and as much as he loves the mad urgency, sometimes he does find himself longing just to be held, just to take things a little slower and a little gentler before Gwaine is fingering him open. 

It’s only a short want though, because Gwaine’s fingers are deft and he can do things with his tongue that shouldn’t be legal and it really doesn’t take long for Merlin to become a writhing mess on the bed, demanding Gwaine’s cock as though his life depended on it. Later he will be embarrassed that he begged, but right now he just _needs_. 

And after, as Gwaine collapses on the bed beside him and the world again seems to right itself on its axis, he knows there is no where he would rather be, and no one he would rather be with.

“What was that?” He has to shout to make himself heard over the crowd and the general buzz of the place.

“A Screaming Orgasm!” the girl yells back, making the people around her laugh. 

Merlin grins – he’d actually heard her the first time – and begins to mix her drink with all the flamboyance Bayard had hated. The group of girls watch him in anticipation. This is part of what they come here for. News of The Essetir’s new barmen has spread and the place seems even more popular than it was before.

The people who come into this bar are young, rich and happy to splash the cash. Merlin has had to add a whole list of champagne cocktails to his repertoire in the last two weeks, as well as several with brandy and even a few with sherry, which he hadn’t thought anyone but Aunty Alice drank any more. 

“Merlin, Grey Goose!” Gwaine calls from the other side of the room. He catches the bottle deftly as it comes flying through the air and the crowd cheers. “Thanks babe!”

Merlin fights back a grin as he serves the next customer. Cenred might be a creep, but at least he doesn’t expect them to hide their relationship. 

By the end of his shift he’s exhausted. He and Gwaine are renting the flat upstairs, as per Gwaine’s agreement with Cenred. Merlin actually does have his own room, but he has yet to sleep there, and he can’t help but worry that Cenred might have a key to the flat.

“Come on, buttercup, let’s get you to bed.” Gwaine wraps an arm around him and plants a kiss on the top of his head. 

Merlin loves this sweet side of the cheeky, cocky Gwaine that no one else gets to see. “You are the best.” He kisses Gwaine properly before getting his stuff from the backroom. He nearly jumps out of his skin when he notices smarmy Cenred watching them from the shadows with a smirk on his face. Merlin has to quickly gain control of his magic before it lashes out and does some serious damage.

“Do you need any help getting upstairs?” Cenred asks, putting his hand on Merlin’s arm.

“Um, I’m good, thanks.” Merlin tries to pull away without making it too obvious. This guy makes his skin crawl, but he’s still his boss. And oh boy, wouldn’t Freya kick his butt for letting Cenred get away with it, but this is a good job.

“Well.” Cenred smiles that slimy smile again, never breaking eye contact. “Let me know if you need anything. Anything at all.”

“I, um, just my stuff.” Merlin squeezes past Cenred and grabs his phone and wallet. He gives him a tight smile and hurries back to Gwaine.

“You ok?” Gwaine asks, frowning

Merlin nods and leans in to kiss his boyfriend. “Let’s get out of here.”

“You need to hold it like this.” He can hear Gwaine’s voice coming from the backroom. “Now try and flip it.” 

Pushing the door open, Merlin is surprised to see Gwaine apparently teaching a girl with dark-blonde hair to throw a bottle. He’s standing behind her with his hands positioning hers, just like he had with Merlin all those months ago.

Merlin clears his throat and watches with satisfaction as the girl drops the bottle. “Who is this?”

“Eira, she’s new.” Gwaine does not look guilty, and he does not step away. “I’m just showing her the ropes.”

Merlin nods. Cenred has been talking about getting someone else behind the bar. He shakes himself. He tells himself he has no reason to suspect Gwaine, who is just showing the new girl how to do what they do. “Hi.” He puts on his brightest smile and holds out his hand. “I’m Merlin.”

The smile she gives him as she shakes his hand is so bright, and so open, that he immediately feels guilty for any suspicions he might have had. “Gwaine’s told me all about you! You make a really cute couple.”

His smile is more genuine this time. “Thanks. So, how much bar experience do you have?”

“Oh, I’ve worked a few places. I’ve been in Ibiza for the season, but I came home because I start my MA at Imperial in September.”

“Ibiza? That sounds fun!” Yeah, working in the sun, he could get behind that.

“Oh it is! The money is really good there, and it’s a great place to be, so vibrant. You two should try it, you’d go down a storm!”

Gwaine waggles his eyebrows at Merlin and smiles that special little smile just for the two of them. “Maybe we will.”

‘Bar work in Ibiza’, he types into Google.

‘Summer jobs abroad’ it throws back at him. Perfect.

Merlin can’t quite get the idea out of his head. As much as he knows Gwaine loves The Essetir, Merlin isn’t sure how much longer he can carry on working for Cenred and putting up with all his creepy touching without breaking the man’s arm, or his magic doing something worse.

A summer spent somewhere different, somewhere warm, somewhere exciting – what part of that plan is bad? Gwaine would surely be in his element!

He quickly prints off a few pages for Gwaine to see and is done just as the man himself walks in.

“Hey Gwaine! Come and look at this, I was thinking…” He trails off as he realises Gwaine is not alone. Hi Eira.”

“Hello Merlin.” She comes over and picks up one of his printouts. “Oh, you are thinking of going to Ibiza? Want me to tell you the best places?”

“Sure. It’s only a pipe dream at the moment, but any help would be good.” 

“I wouldn’t have had you down for the Ibiza type, Merlin,” Gwaine says, looking over Eira’s shoulder.

“We could make a killing over there.” Merlin grins up at Gwaine. “Do a couple of seasons, get some cash together, come back here and open our own place. No more Cenred. It would be brilliant!”

“You really have this all planned out, don’t you?” Gwaine’s smile seems a little reluctant, but Merlin doesn’t want to question him in front of Eira.

“It’s just an idea I had the other day when Eira was talking about having worked there.”

“I think it’s a brilliant idea,” Eira says, grinning. “They’d love you!”

Merlin finds himself grinning back at her. “I hope so.”

Merlin sighs when he sees Eira’s shoes just inside the door to the flat. It’s not that he doesn’t like her, she’s nice enough, but he’d been hoping to have Gwaine to himself for just a couple of hours before their shift starts. Instead, he can hear her giggling, and he’s not in the mood for it.

Feeling a little antisocial, he heads towards the bedroom. Maybe he’ll just read for a bit and claim he didn’t know she was here.

It takes him a moment to realise that the giggling is in fact coming from the very room he is headed towards.

Frowning, he pushes open the door. 

He backs out of the room.

He must have it wrong, right?

Gwaine wouldn’t, he just wouldn’t.

He backs into something and falls flat on his backside as it turns out to be the bathroom door which gives way and then rebounds to hit him after he lands. He scrambles to get up again, but by that time Gwaine is out of the bedroom, hastily buttoning up his jeans and Merlin sits down heavily on the floor, hiding his head in his hands rather than have to look at him.

“Merlin?” Gwaine reaches out a hand to help him up but Merlin shoves it away. 

“Get off me.” His own voice sounds so low and scratchy he barely recognises it. “Don’t come anywhere near me.” The way his magic is angrily buzzing around him, Gwaine would do well to take that advice.

“Merlin, please…” Gwaine tries again to help him up and this time Merlin gets to his feet and shoves him roughly out of the room. 

“I said get OFF me! I don’t want your lying cheating hands anywhere near me. You stink of _her_!”

“Merlin please, it was just a bit of fun, it didn’t mean anything!” If Merlin was feeling generous right now, he might say there was a hint of desperation in Gwaine’s voice, but he’s not feeling generous. Why should he?

“Well, that’s not what you told me!” Eira’s voice, which he hasn’t had a problem with until today, is grating and nasal and he wants nothing more than to unleash his magic and send them both to the backend of forever so he never has to see or hear them ever again. He risks a glance, and there she is, hair rumpled, with only a blanket wrapped around her. His mum made that blanket. He’ll have to burn it now. Maybe with her still wearing it.

Barely looking where he is going, he pushes his way past both of them and out of the flat, not knowing or caring where he’s headed, ignoring Gwaine’s voice calling his name. How could he have been so stupid?

Elly had almost warned him, Gwaine had done this to her! He’d thought he was special, that it wouldn’t happen to him. 

And Eira and Gwaine were together so often… how long has this been going on?

He punches a wall. He doesn’t even know why he does it, but the pain feels good.

He must look a sight, tears running down his face, a possible broken hand. He has no idea how he got to Gaius’s. Logic says he must have taken the tube… there is a niggling feeling in his head that he wanted to be at Gaius’s and so he just _was_ , in much the same way he’d once simply arrived home from primary school when Billy Kanen was bullying him and he’d wanted his mum. That had taken a lot of explaining on her part.

And here he is, back where he started, no job, no boyfriend, no place to live other than the squashed back room at Gaius’s.

He can’t go back to The Essetir, he just can’t. 

It’s time to move on.


	2. Part Two

You could say that Merlin is a glutton for punishment. What other explanation could there be for coming to work in a place recommended by the woman who stole his boyfriend? Except, he’d already done the research, he knew the best places to get work here, he’d even started learning a little Spanish only to be told, by Eira no less, that he should be learning Catalan.

So why not, when he already had a much-needed bolt-hole prepared? Why let her take this too?

He has a great apartment in the old town, and a job in El Sol Naixent, the cocktail bar belonging to one of the big posh hotels on the waterfront. The weather is good the food is good, life is good…

And he misses Gwaine. 

Damn it all, he misses Gwaine. He’s a liar and a cheat who took Merlin’s heart and did one of those Irish clog dances on it. And Merlin misses him like breathing.

Life with Gwaine was never dull. 

Life here should not be dull. Everyone knows Ibiza is _the_ fun place to be. There is plenty to do and see, even when not working, and when he is working there is rarely a quiet moment. The problem is, when he is working he is not working with Gwaine, and when he’s off sightseeing, he’s not doing that with Gwaine either. There is no one there to catch a bottle, no one there to smile that cheeky grin when it goes well. No one to give a damn.

Nevertheless, he pastes on his best smile and makes cocktails, and the residents of Eivissa, hotel guests, other holiday-makers and locals alike, all come swarming into his bar. 

“A vodka tonic, a white wine and a pint of bitter.” The blond man on the other side of the bar is gorgeous. Unfortunately, Merlin has sworn off gorgeous men and vowed only to date women for the foreseeable future, even if his magic has started buzzing under his skin. It could be buzzing for anyone, doesn’t have to be this guy.

“What?” He can tell he looks stupid from the eye roll this elicits, but this bar is famous for its cocktails, not the sort of drinks you can get in any pub at home.

“A vodka tonic, a white wine, and a pint of bitter.” The words are spoken very slowly and clearly, in just the sort of upper-class English accent that grates on his nerves.

Instead he sighs and starts to make the drinks. “This is a cocktail bar, you know,” he says, pasting on his best being-nice-to-idiot-customers smile. “You could always go wild and try a cocktail.”

The man opens his mouth, no doubt to say something disparaging, when the girl beside him speaks. “Oh Arthur, he’s right, we should all get cocktails! We’re on holiday.” 

Merlin had somehow failed to notice the two incredibly beautiful women accompanying the man. Of course, he should have realised a prick like that would be the sort to have a gorgeous woman on each arm.

The man, Arthur, wrinkles his nose. “Oh come on, Gwen, we surely don’t want to pay through the nose for some sugary revolting monstrosity like a bunch of tourists.”

“We _are_ a bunch of tourists. Come on, please, let’s have some fun. I’ll pay.”

A look of outrage crosses the handsome face, like the idea of a woman actually paying for anything is far too out there and modern for this man. “No, it’s fine, I’ll pay. What are you having?”

“Oh, um, what do you have?” This last is spoken to Merlin, and his magic gives a little jump of happiness. Perhaps it is this woman who his magic is interested, and the man just got in the way. She is certainly beautiful, with long curly hair and coffee-coloured skin and the sweetest smile he’s seen in what feels like forever.

Merlin grins and pushes the cocktail menu across the bar. 

“Fine, well while she’s deciding, we’ll have a vodka tonic and a pint of bitter.” The man is still not smiling and is clearly a bit of a dick.

“Hang on a minute.” The woman on his other side walks around to study the drinks list with Gwen. “If she’s having a cocktail then so am I.” She is possibly even more beautiful, in fact she is possibly the most beautiful person he has ever seen in his life, including Gwaine, perhaps even including the blond man. She pushes her long dark hair over her shoulder and runs a sharp red nail down the list. 

The man rolls his eyes. “Fine. Whatever.”

Merlin grins at him in triumph. “I’ll give you a few moments to decide,” he says before going to serve someone else. 

When he comes back, the two women order a Raspberry Mojito and a Dark ‘n’ Stormy. Arthur sticks to his pint of beer, despite getting teased by his companions.

“So, are you staying at the hotel?” Merlin asks as he puts the mojito down in front of a delighted-looking Gwen and starts on the Dark ‘n’ Stormy. 

Gwen nods and takes a sip. “Oh wow! This is so good, Morgana, you have to try this!” She holds out the glass for the other woman to try. “We just arrived today,” she says to Merlin. “Two weeks in the sunshine, quite literally what the doctor ordered.” 

Merlin finds himself instantly warming to Gwen, it must be her that his magic is calling to. Morgana seems nice too, if rather more reserved. Arthur, on the other hand, steadfastly refuses to try either of the cocktails, sticking to his beer and scowling. Merlin shakes his head and reminds himself that he has sworn off men, which is just as well because clearly the good looking ones are all arseholes.

For the second evening in a row, Gwen, Morgana and Arthur grace El Sol Naixent with their attractive presence. Merlin knows they are on their way several minutes before they walk through the door from the way his magic starts getting excited and he has to quickly change the colour of a martini that has inexplicably become a rather nice dark red for a second. This time the girls head straight for the cocktail menu.

“Evening, Merlin,” Morgana says with a grin. “I’ll have an El Diablo.”

“Can I try the Strawberry Daiquiri?” Gwen says, still studying the list. “Oh no, wait, what about a WooWoo? Or the Sea Breeze looks good.”

Merlin grins at her. “It’s ok, pace yourself, you’re here for two weeks.”

She nods, her curls bouncing. “You’re right. I’ll have a Cosmopolitan. Please.”

“And Arthur will have a Dirty Martini,” Morgana says.

“What? No I won’t!” Arthur, who seems to have been doing nothing except staring vaguely in Merlin’s direction suddenly seems to snap back into the conversation.

“Oh come on, Arthur, we’re on holiday!” Gwen winds her arms around his middle and squeezes before propelling him closer to the bar. “Live a little.”

“It’s fine,” Merlin adds. “James Bond drinks martinis, they are perfectly masculine and butch.”

“Hey, that’s not fair!” Arthur looks distinctly uncomfortable, like Merlin has actually struck a nerve. “You don’t even know me.” 

Merlin takes pity on him while they are arguing. He mixes sugar with angostura and orange bitters, topping it with bourbon and pouring it over ice. 

“Here, try this.” With a final flourish, he puts the glass with ice down in front of Arthur and pours the cocktail in. “Looks sufficiently like a bourbon on the rocks for a cocktail virgin.”

Arthur opens his mouth to retaliate, but can clearly think of nothing to say and is left looking rather like a stranded fish.

Merlin smirks to himself and starts to mix the other two drinks.

“So what is it? Morgana asks, nodding towards Arthur’s drink, which has yet to be touched. 

“Old Fashioned,” Merlin replies, making a big show of mixing Gwen’s Cosmo.

Morgana throws back her head and laughs. “Oh he’s got your measure, Arthur.”

“Remind me again why I was stupid enough to agree to come on holiday with my sisters?” Arthur mutters under his breath. He puts on a mock-pained expression and makes a big show of sipping his drink and pulling a face of disgust. 

“Oh well, if you don’t want it, I’ll have it.” Morgana puts her hand out to take the glass from him.

“No no.” Arthur turns his whole torso to the side so she can’t get it. “I’ll suffer through it.” He flashes a small covert smile at Merlin and and winks. Merlin’s magic is now metaphorically leaping up and down and cheering and he finally has to give in and admit that however nice Gwen might be, she is not the one he’s interested in.

By the third night they come in, Morgana and Gwen have already tried nearly a third of the cocktail list between them. Nevertheless, they spend a good while whispering between themselves and giggling whilst perusing the menu.

Arthur arrives a little late, and Merlin is ashamed to admit his jaw nearly drops when he sees him. Two days of relaxation and sun have clearly done him good, his hair is now soft and shiny and blonder than ever, his skin is lightly tanned, and the uptight air about him is starting to fade. He’s wearing a soft-looking white shirt, open at the neck, and a pair of dark-coloured cotton shorts. He looks positively edible. 

Merlin shakes himself, closes his mouth, and goes back to mixing drinks for another customer. 

“Why do I have to order them?” Arthur is saying when Merlin gets back to them. “You’ve managed perfectly well before.”

“Gwen and I need to visit the ladies.” Morgana jumps of the bar stool she is perched on and grabs Gwen’s hand, pulling her up too. “And you promised to buy all the drinks, remember?”

Merlin grins at Arthur. “What can I get you?”

Morgana whispers in Arthur’s ear.

“I’m not ordering that!”

“It’s for Gwen, you wouldn’t want to disappoint her, would you?” Morgana gives him a big grin.”

Arthur sighs and turns back to Merlin. “One El Diablo, one Accomplice and one sexonthebeach.”

Merlin can’t help the laugh that escapes him. There is no doubt at all about who the Diablo and her Accomplice are. He can’t resist pushing Arthur a bit more. “Sorry, I didn’t catch that, what was the last one?”

The blush is clear even in the low light of the bar and under Arthur’s new tan. “Sex on the Beach?” he says louder.

“Ok, but I don’t get off till three, can you wait till then?” he hears himself say, inwardly blaming Gwaine for teaching him cheesy pick-up lines. 

Gwen and Morgana, who are still stood behind Arthur, burst out into giggles. Arthur just blinks at him, the red colour expanding all the way up his cheeks and down his neck.

A commotion across the room distracts him, and a girl comes running up to the bar. “Help me, please! My friend has passed out.”

“Has she taken anything?” Arthur asks, turning quickly. “Call an ambulance,” he calls over his shoulder to Merlin as he and Gwen hurry over to the girl.

“It’s ok, they’re both medical, they know what they are doing,” Morgana says with a shrug, before following them. 

Merlin does as he's told. He calls an ambulance, hands clammy on his phone. Why would someone pass out? Has he poisoned them? Are there drugs involved? They could get shut down… Is the person alright? Returning, he finds a wallet on the bar. His heart still pounding, he takes a quick look inside. It contains a driving license for Arthur DuBois. So, he puts the wallet behind the for bar Dr DuBois to collect later.

After the ambulance is gone the place clears out a bit. Even Gwen, Arthur and Morgana have disappeared somewhere else. It is no real surprise when, about half and hour later, Arthur comes hurrying back into the bar.

“Did I leave my…” He looks relieved as Merlin holds out the wallet to him. “Thank you.”

“No problem.” Merlin smiles at him. Arthur isn’t really so stuffy as Merlin had first thought – it’s a wonder what a few days of relaxation and sunshine will do for a man. If Arthur is a doctor that must be a fairly stressful job, so maybe he can forgive him.

“So, maybe I’ll try one of those old fashioned drinks again.” Arthur settles himself on a bar stool.

“Don’t tell me you are actually going to risk your masculinity enough to drink a cocktail in a bar, by yourself, without your girlfriends to force you into it?”

He’s not quite prepared for the way Arthur throws his head back and laughs, but it just might be one of the most wonderful things he’s ever seen in his life. “My half sister and my as-good-as sister. Tell you what, how about you give me something really fruity and colourful.”

“Ok. any preference on flavours?”

Arthur shrugs. “Citrussy?”

Merlin considers it for a moment. “How do you feel about tequila?” He only asks because he knows Will can’t even hear the word tequila without wanting to throw up. He also knows the tequila slammers had been his idea and it is therefore completely his fault, as Will has never let him forget.

Arthur looks a little disappointed. “Even I’ve tried a Margarita, Merlin. I thought you’d be a little more original.”

“Who said anything about Margarita? Although you really shouldn’t knock a good Margarita.” Merlin busies himself getting ingredients together. 

He can feel Arthur watching him as he makes the cocktail, and for once he doesn’t feel the need to put in any of Gwaine’s frill and tricks, concentrating instead on making this the best drink Arthur’s ever had in his life.. 

“Here we go, Cantarito. Lime, orange, lemon and grapefruit, can’t get much more citrussy than that.” He sets the drink down in front of Arthur and grins.

Arthur gingerly takes a sip, then has the cheek to look surprised. “That is really good.”

Merlin grins smugly and goes to serve another customer. 

Next time there is a lul in the crowd, he goes back to Arthur. “So, masculinity still intact?”

Arthur gives him a lovely little half-crooked smile. “I think it will survive.”

“How about one of those really flamboyant pink ones next?” Merlin flashes his best cheeky grin.

Arthur shakes his head and laughs. “You do realise that could describe about half the cocktail list. Gwen has tried most of them.”

“So which will it be?”

“Anyone would think you are trying to get me drunk.” Arthur is watching him now with a small smile playing about his lips that says he is not averse to this idea. “Which was the one with the silly name again?”

“Also half the list.”

“A woo hoo?”

“A WooWoo?” Merlin grins back. “Good choice. Coming right up.” Again, he doesn’t bother being flamboyant with Arthur’s drink, which is strange because he finds he really wants to impress this man. “Where are Gwen and Morgana tonight anyway?” he asks as he sets the WooWoo down. 

Arthur shrugs. “Gwen wanted to go dancing. I have two left feet.” He picks up the drink and takes a sip, nodding in approval.

“So, we have a convert? Cocktails all the way from here on in?”

Arthur’s mouth twists. “Maybe not.” When he sees Merlin looking at him he shrugs. “I get a lot of stick for being a walking stereotype, which I’m not. I don’t like to give them more ammunition.”

Merlin frowns. “How do you mean?”

Arthur stares down at the bright pink drink for a moment then he looks up and meets Merlin square in the eye. “Some people think that a gay male nurse should act a certain way, be a walking cliché. I don’t have a problem with people who are camp or who don’t like sport or whatever, people can be whoever they want to be, but that’s not me, and I don’t like assumptions based on nothing more than my sexuality and my job. So yeah, I guess I go the other way sometimes; I don’t hide who I am, but I don’t like to feed their prejudice and give them ammunition.”

Merlin nods, understanding. “So, is that why you didn’t fancy going dancing with the girls?” Meanwhile a voice in his head is screaming ‘He likes men! I’m in with a shot!’ and his magic is trying to escape and pull Arthur towards him.

Arthur wrinkles his nose and shakes his head. “Nah. I really do have two left feet.” He looks at Merlin over the top of his drink. “Anyway. I got a better offer.”

“Oh?”

Arthur grins a sexy little grin that makes Merlin’s pulse quicken. “Yeah, apparently his shift finishes at three.”

“Oh!” Merlin can’t explain why his heart is beating so fast. He’d only been joking when he said that to Arthur, but if Arthur is serious he might seriously reconsider the not dating men thing. His magic agrees.

“Unless…” Arthur suddenly looks self-conscious at Merlin’s lack of response. “Unless I have it completely wrong, in which case I apologise.”

“No!” Merlin can’t bear that he made Arthur look like that. “No, you didn’t get it wrong. If you really don’t mind waiting that long. I wouldn’t really recommend sex on the beach, though, you end up with sand in some pretty uncomfortable places.”

That smile is back on Arthur’s face, the one that Merlin is pretty sure he’d do anything to see every day. “Well, we wouldn’t want that now, would we?”

Merlin can’t help but grin back. Arthur seems to be one of those people whose mood is infectious.

They are on the beach watching the dark tide creeping up the sand. They are not actually doing anything that might get sand in unusual places, but Merlin is fine with that. He’d jumped straight into bed with Gwaine, and look how that had turned out. Taking things slower with Arthur seems like a much better idea.

Except… now they are here, he can’t think of a single thing to say. He barely knows this man, and surely he should be being charming and witty? There were never silences with Gwaine – Freya, yes, Gwaine not so much. Every spare minute was filled with noise, Gwaine, talking, Gwaine humming, Gwaine drumming his fingers, Gwaine bouncing his leg. The man is a ball of energy that can never sit quiet. Why the hell is he even thinking about Gwaine?

He can’t do it. There is just something about Arthur that makes Merlin not want to be like Gwaine or any one else. He wants Arthur to like Merlin for Merlin.

Arthur shifts again and is suddenly looking right at Merlin. It doesn’t take much effort for Merlin to bridge the short distance between them and press his lips to Arthur’s. Arthur responds quickly and before long they are lying on the sand snogging like a couple of teenagers. Arthur breaks of to catch his breath. “What was that about sand in uncomfortable places?”

Merlin giggles and sits up, brushing sand off his work shirt and tie. “I’m not at work tomorrow till seven. How about I give you a tour of the island?”

Arthur sits up too and leans in to kiss him again. “That sounds perfect.”

“What made you decide to become a nurse?” Merlin asks for want of anything better to say. They are having lunch at Tony’s, a little restaurant that only the locals go to, away from the main tourist areas, not in any of the guidebooks. Tony himself is one of Merlin’s best customers, and Merlin is always guaranteed a table.

Arthur doesn’t answer for a few minutes, playing with his fork instead. “I had a falling out with my father,” he says eventually. 

“Ok.” Merlin doesn’t push it, if Arthur wants to tell him he will, if not Merlin can accept that it is really none of his business.

“My father is… very set. In his opinions.” Arthur shifts a little and looks at Merlin. “He’s… religious, and having a homosexual son does not really fit in with his image. So he made me not part of the family.”

“He disowned you?” Merlin has heard of families doing that and he has to acknowledge how lucky he is to have the mum he has. He’s pretty sure there is nothing he could ever do to make her disown him, and as far as dating men or women goes, he knows she just wants him to be happy.

Arthur nods, looking back out at the sea. “I decided to come out on Christmas day, which to be fair is the biggest day of the year for him. I was twenty and had convinced myself he’d accept it. He threw me out in only the clothes I stood up in.”

“That’s horrible.” He reaches out and takes Arthur’s hand.

“I was in my first year of studying to be a doctor, that’s where I met Gwen. She and her family took me in. I switched to nursing because the training is shorter, and I suddenly needed to make a living rather than sponging off her and her dad.”

“Do you think you’ll ever go back to it? Being a doctor, I mean.”

Arthur snorts. “What’s wrong? Disappointed? Thought you were bagging yourself a rich doctor?”

Merlin shakes his head. “My mum is a nurse, she cares for people with dementia. I know that nurses are pretty amazing people.”

A waiter comes over to take their order and Merlin seizes the opportunity to change to a lighter subject.

“So, why on earth did you decide to come on holiday with your sisters?”

Arthur gives him a small smile. “Gwen is my best friend in the world. Morg… isn’t that bad when you get to know her. We didn’t grow up together, she is another dirty little secret of my father’s. He had an affair – he was married, she was married. Morgana and I didn’t even meet until a couple of years ago.”

Merlin nods. “I’m an only child. My best friend, Will, is probably the closest thing I have to a sibling, we lived next door to each other since we were three. He was so mad at me when I took the job out here, but he calmed down when he realised he’d get free accomodation. He came over last month.”

They stop talking as their food arrives. 

“So,” Arthur says as they start to eat. “How on earth are you single? I mean, I’m assuming you are single?” 

Merlin shrugs and bites his lip. He looks up to find Arthur watching him. “Look, I know bartenders are supposed to be all sophisticated and experienced, but I’ve actually only ever had two partners. My girlfriend at Uni was called Freya, she’s from Connecticut, and yes, we are still friends. My last partner was a guy called Gwaine, he broke my heart, and no, we are not still in contact.”

“Ok.” Arthur is quiet for a moment. “So, did you just take a while to realise you were gay, or do you like girls too?”

Merlin shifts a little. He’s met gay men before who have a problem with him being bi, one guy at uni had told him he had no right being in the LGBTQ because he had a girlfriend, others told him he was just in denial and was gay.

“It’s ok,” Arthur says after Merlin’s pause has clearly been too long. “I’m not judging you.”

Merlin meets his eyes and smiles. “Yes, I’m bi. Or maybe pansexual would be a better description. I’m attracted more to people than the packaging.” In other words, his magic is not picky like that, and he and his magic are usually in agreement about these things.

Arthur nods. “Ok.” He goes back to eating his lunch and Merlin breaths out a sigh of relief.

“So how about you then?” He’s surprised that Arthur seems to be single, someone who looks like that should fighting off the men, not sitting here with a nobody like Merlin.

“No, I’ve never really been interested in girls,” Arthur replies with a shake of his head. “Not sexually, I mean.”

There is something about Arthur’s smile that Merlin could just get hooked on, and he’s pretty sure his staring must be making Arthur uncomfortable by now. 

People must try so hard to make Arthur happy, just to see the room light up with that smile. Damn it, Merlin is falling way to hard for something that is probably nothing more than a holiday dalliance with a barman for Arthur.

“I meant boyfriends.” Merlin sticks his tongue out in a childish gesture designed to stop himself grinning back and looking like a love-sick idiot. “Do you have one back home?”

Arthur shakes his head. “I’m not a cheat. There have been a few, but nothing that serious. Morgana says it’s because I work too hard. And apparently I have ‘daddy issues’, which is a bit rich coming from her.”

Nothing serious. Does that mean Arthur isn’t looking for anything serious? He’s trying not to get in too deep himself, Arthur is only here for two weeks, less than that now, and Merlin has only just got over one broken heart without giving himself another. Keep it casual.

“So where do you do your nursing?”

“Royal Camelot, just south of London. In A&E, because I am apparently a sucker for punishment.”

“Ooh, so you’re George Clooney?”

Arthur laughs again. “I think you’ll find he played a doctor, not a nurse.”

Merlin shrugs. “Well at least you’re prettier.” He wants to smack himself in the face, what on earth did he say that for?

Arthur is looking at him strangely, his head tipped to one side like he’s trying to fathom Merlin out. “Thank you,” he says quietly. 

Merlin grins. “So, how are your set for a bit of a hike? I thought I might take you up the castle this afternoon.”

The grin on Arthur’s face this time is a little bit evil, and for the first time Merlin can see a resemblance to Morgana. “Is that a euphemism, _Mer_ lin?”

“Smile, Arthur!” Gwen steps back to take a picture of the two of them with her phone. The four of them have just got back from a boat trip around the islands.

Arthur, looking particularly fine in a red shirt today, smiles as instructed and pulls Merlin in close to him.

He’s falling way too hard for Arthur, and he knows it, but he can’t seem to stop himself. At this rate, he’s definitely in for yet another broken heart when Arthur goes home.

Perhaps the necropolis museum wasn’t such a good idea. One of the assistants has been following them the whole way round after catching them kissing and deciding they were being disrespectful.

When she follows them into the third room, Merlin starts to giggle. He can’t help it, she’s following them around with such a stern look on her face, and it might be nerves or it might just be that it actually is funny, but once he starts he can’t stop. And then, in the infectious way of giggling, Arthur starts sniggering too and if the woman was giving them a death glare before, now she looks like she might actually kill them and hide the bodies.

“I think we’d better go.” Arthur grabs hold of Merlin and pulls him towards the exit.

They are both laughing properly by the time they get outside, even though nothing funny has really happened.

“That was a lot more fun than I thought it would be,” Arthur says, wiping his eyes.

“It’s interesting, I swear. You never gave it a chance.” They are still standing close and Merlin feels no desire to move. Arthur’s eyes are impossibly blue right now, still sparkling with mirth. Merlin leans in for a kiss. “How about I take you somewhere more romantic tonight?”

“Don’t you have to work?”

Merlin shakes his head. “Maria gave me the night off.”

“Where are we going?” Arthur’s arms are around Merlin’s waist and it really should be too hot out to be so close to another person, but it’s Arthur, and Merlin can put up with a little heat.

“It’s a surprise.” 

“Hmm, intriguing…” Arthur leans in to kiss him again, ignoring the woman who is still watching them from the doorway of the museum.

“Wear shoes you can walk up hills in,” Merlin says when they break for breath.

“Ok…” Arthur raises an eyebrow at him.

“And bring something warm.”

Arthur frowns. “I have to be honest, Merlin, this is sounding less and less romantic by the second.”

“Just trust me.”

Es Vedra is the best place on the island, possibly the world, to watch the sunset. Arthur was a little sceptical when Merlin dragged him up here with a picnic blanket and basket on his night off, but now, sitting with a glass of champagne (ok, cava) watching the sun goes down in all its rosy golden glory, he doesn’t look unhappy at all.

“Alright, this might not have been the worst idea in the world.” Arthur’s warmth is a solid presence at his side. They are barely even touching, and there are many other couples here doing the same thing, even family groups, and yet this feels like one of the most intimate settings in the world.

“I told you to trust me,” Merlin says, trying, and probably failing, not to sound smug.

“I’m just worried about all the other people you’ve brought up here before me,” Arthur says lightly.

“No one. Just you. I’ve only been up on my own before.”

“You came to watch a romantic sunset by yourself? That’s just sad.” Arthur rocks sideways and knocks him with his shoulder to show he’s joking.

Merlin looks over at him. Arthur’s profile is exquisite, with his aquiline nose and high forehead, the last rays of sunlight reflecting off his blond hair and turning it to burnished gold. It would be so easy to close that space and kiss him.

Like he can feel Merlin watching him, Arthur turns his head and raises his eyebrows? “Do I have food on my face?” He goes to wipe at his mouth with the back of his hand but Merlin catches hold of his wrist. 

“No. There is nothing on your face, you’re perfect.” He leans in and kisses Arthur quickly before he can blush at how corny his own words sound. He can feel Arthur smile against his lips and suddenly there is a warm arm looped around his waist.

“You are missing the sunset,” Arthur whispers, making no effort to break away.

“Umm hmm.” Merlin kisses him again. “How would you like to come back to my place tonight?”

“I was starting to think you were never going to ask.” Arthur deepens the kiss briefly before breaking away and starting to clear away the remains of their picnic.

Merlin snorts. “Someone’s keen.”

Arthur grins and leans over to plant a kiss on Merlin’s mouth. “Can you blame me? I pulled the hot bartender and he made me wait for nearly a week before inviting me home.” He stands up and tugs on the blanket, making Merlin get up. The sun has pretty much disappeared now anyway so Merlin laughs and joins him as they quickly make their way back down to the town.

Arthur.

Arthur Arthur Arthur Arthur Arthur.

He has fast become the centre of Merlin’s world, and the rest of it too.

And this is dangerous, Merlin knows it. He has fallen too deep too fast, and when Arthur leaves he is going to be a wreck. How could he ever have thought what he had with Gwaine was worth getting upset about? Gwaine was just a mild distraction, practice for the real event, he can see that now. Perhaps Gwaine always could. 

When Arthur makes loves to Merlin, he makes him feel like the most precious and cherished person in the world. When they sleep, and Arthur curls up behind him, one arm looped around Merlin’s middle, he feels protected in a way he never knew he needed to be. The taste of his skin is becoming like a drug he never knew he needed and now can’t live without, the smell of his hair, the feel of his touch. Arthur has burrowed his way so deeply into Merlin’s heart that he’s quite convinced no one else will ever compare.

He’s basically screwed in every possible way.

Arthur’s holiday only has four days left and they have made the most of their time, seeing each other every day and spending every night in Merlin’s small apartment. Life absolutely could not be better. Merlin is even daring to let himself hope that when the season is over and Merlin moves home, they could be together properly.

And this, of course is when disaster waltzes in through the door. 

Disaster comes with a Dublin accent, fabulous hair and designer stubble. 

Disaster also comes with a brand new designer husband.

It’s quiet in the bar, Merlin has a rare afternoon shift because he’s going out to dinner tonight with Arthur. He really wishes he had taken a different shift.

“Well now. I heard this was where the best cocktails in town were made, and I figured it would be where me old mate Merlin would be.” Gwaine’s casually sprawled on one of the seats outside, smirking up at Merlin like nothing had ever gone wrong between them.

“Let me guess, Elly told you I was here,” Merlin says flatly as he puts two coffees down on the table. The man next to Gwaine who had come into the bar to order, looks puzzled. Merlin feels sorry for him, no doubt Gwaine will screw him over, just like he does with everyone else.

“May I introduce you to my husband, Leon.” 

Husband? Merlin can’t hide his surprise. He wouldn’t have said Gwaine was the settling down sort, not even a year ago when he’d thought himself madly in love with him. He looks over at Leon. Tall, with a mop of ginger curls and a kind face. 

“What are you doing here, Gwaine?” He could do without this. Even though he is with Arthur now, and even though that relationship has made him see just how shallow his affair with Gwaine had been, the hurt is still raw.

“I’m on honeymoon,” Gwaine says, like what he is doing is perfectly normal.

“And you just had to come here? To the island, to the very bar, where you knew your ex was working? Out of all the places in the world?”

Leon starts beside him. “Ex?” 

Merlin gives him a sympathetic smile, suddenly remembering being on the other side of this conversation with Elena as the ex. “Ancient history.”

Leon nods, but still looks worried. 

“How long have you two known each other?” Merlin asks, taking pity on Leon.

“Just a few months.” Leon smiles at Gwaine, and it’s the sort of dopey, lovestruck smile that Merlin is pretty sure he sends to Arthur.

“Yeah.” Gwaine takes Leon’s hand and curls their fingers together. Merlin has to look away. “It was a whirlwind romance.”

“Well.” Merlin forces himself to smile. “I’m really happy for you both. Now, if you’ll excuse me, some of us have to work.”

He’s not sure why he is silently fuming as he goes back inside. Gwaine has always had the ability to stir up some form of emotion from him, that is for sure. The thing is, he wouldn’t take Gwaine back now if you paid him, so why on earth is he feeling so… hurt? Used? Pissed off? Whatever it is he’s feeling, he doesn’t understand it. Arthur is worth a hundred Gwaines.

He gets back to work and pastes on his friendly barman face. This, of course, does not put Gwaine off and within about an hour he struts into the bar.

“So, how have you been?” Gwaine asks chirpily, planting himself on a bar stool like nothing has happened.

“Fine, thanks.” Merlin carries on wiping down the bar like Gwaine isn’t there. “Where’s Leon?”

“He had to go and call his work. I’ve missed you.” For once in his life, Gwaine actually sounds a little self-conscious.

“Yeah, well you shouldn’t have shagged someone else then, should you.” Merlin is not in the mood for letting him off lightly.

“Ah come on, it was only a bit of fun.”

“You and her or you and me? Because it wasn’t just fun or me, Gwaine, and you knew it.”

Gwaine starts picking at one of the beermats, and won’t meet Merlin’s gaze. “I’m sorry.” 

“Well that’s ok then, isn’t it? You’re sorry. Everything is fine.”

“Merlin…”

“Look, it’s done, alright? I’ve moved on, you’ve moved on. Let’s just chalk it up to experience.”

“We were friends too, you know.” Gwaine finally looks up from the cardboard destruction he’s made of the beermat. “You are probably one of my best friends. And you know we worked well together.”

“That is not how you treat your friends.”

“I didn’t mean to. I didn’t set out to hurt you, Merlin.”

“You never do.”

“I…”

“Look, just do me a favour, yeah? Don’t treat Leon the way you treated me, or Elly or any the others. He seems like a nice guy, he doesn’t deserve it.”

Gwaine nods mutely.

“So,” Merlin says, taking pity on him and changing the subject. “What are you doing with yourself these days?”

Gwaine’s usual smile is a little forced, but he takes the olive branch. “Leon is a hedge fund manager, which apparently has nothing to do with gardening. He’s promised to keep me in the style to which I would like to become accustomed.”

“A kept man, eh? You’ll be bored in a week.”

“Well, creepy Cenred only ever really wanted you, when it was just me I was out on my ear. I’ve been doing agency bar work. I reckon it’s time to try something new.”

“Such as?”

Gwaine shrugs. “I’ll let you know when I find it. So, how about you?”

Merlin makes a sweeping gesture to the bar around them. “I’m working here.”

“Obviously. You seeing anyone?”

“I missed the part where that is your business.”

“Right.”

At the hurt look on Gwaine’s face, Merlin relents. “I’ve been seeing a nurse.”

Gwaine brightens up. “Is she pretty?”

Merlin laughs. “Yes, _he’s_ very pretty. Don’t be so sexist.”

Gwaine holds his hands up in surrender. “Sorry, my bad.”

“Gwaine, are you ready to go?” Leon calls from the doorway. This must be weird for him, Merlin can’t believe Gwaine was so insensitive as to come to see his ex on his honeymoon.

“Nice catching up with you, Merlin.” Gwaine stands up and holds out his hand like Merlin was just some acquaintance. “We have dinner reservations, so, gotta go.”

Merlin doesn’t take his hand, but he does smile at Gwaine. “Good to see you,” he lies.

Gwaine turns and saunters over to Leon, stretching up to kiss him.

“Oh Gwaine?” Merlin calls after him. Gwaine turns and looks back. “I mean it. Don’t fuck it up this time.”

Tonight he’s taking Arthur back to Tony’s, the small restaurant he’d taken him to for lunch on their first ‘date’. It is an out of the way place, only locals usually tend to fo there, so it is with a certain amount of surprise when, just as they are deciding what to have, Gwaine and Leon walk through the door.

“Oh no,” Merlin mutters under his breath, trying to hide behind his menu.

“What’s up?” Arthur whispers, turning to see what the problem is.

“Gwaine,” Merlin hisses. “My ex just walked in.”

“The guy that cheated on you? I thought he was in London?”

“So did I. He turned up at the bar this afternoon with his new husband. And now they are here.” 

Arthur tries to look over his shoulder again. “Which one?”

“Shorter one, dark hair, beard.”

“I thought you said he left you for a girl?”

“He cheated on me with a girl. Knowing Gwaine, he probably cheated on her too.”

It’s no good, Gwaine has finally seen them and is making his way over, an unhappy-looking Leon following in his wake.

“Well now, fancy seeing you here.”

“Gwaine, leave them alone, they’re clearly on a date.” Leon tries to catch Gwaine’s arm.

Arthur stands up formally and holds out his hand to Gwaine then Leon. “Good evening, I’m Arthur.”

“Oh,” Gwaine says with one of those devilish smiles of his that says he’s going to cause trouble and will only get worse if you try to stop him. “You must be the nurse?”

The stiffening of Arthur’s back is almost imperceptible, but it is definitely there. “Do you have a problem with that?”

“No!” Gwaine holds his hands up, picture of false innocence. “It’s an admirable job, cleaning up sick and changing bedpans and all that. You must be so proud.”

“I honestly hope you are never in need of a nurse, whether it be to clean you up or to save your life. Yes, I am fucking proud of what I do.”

Merlin puts a hand on Arthur’s arm and pulls him back down to his chair. “Gwaine, stop being a dick.”

“Yes, Gwaine, stop being a dick,” Leon says. He turns to Merlin and Arthur. “Sorry to interrupt, we’ll find somewhere else for dinner.”

“No, I want to eat here. Eir— someone told me it’s supposed to be the best place on the island.” Gwaine pulls a chair up to the table and sits down, gesturing for Leon to do the same. “Don’t mind if we join you, do you?”

“Actually, yes, we do. Go away, Gwaine. Go and sit at another table with your nice new husband and leave us alone.” Merlin glances around looking for Tony. Would it be a bad thing to get Gwaine thrown out?

“Aww, now that is not very nice.” Gwaine grabs a breadstick off the table and starts breaking it into a pile of crumbs.

“Do you know what, you can have the table. I’m suddenly not hungry.” Arthur stands, nearly knocking his chair over as he does but catching it at the last minute. “I’ll see you outside,” he says to Merlin.

Merlin gets up too. “Well, thanks for that, Gwaine. An nice evening ruined. Well done.”

He smiles apologetically at Leon once more as they turn to leave, apologising to the waiters on their way out.

Out in the fresh air, he turns to Arthur. “I’m so sorry about that.”

“That fuckwit is the bloke you were so in love with?” Arthur sounds incredulous, and Merlin can’t say he blames him, this was not Gwaine at his best.

“He’s not always like that. He can be a really decent guy.”

“Oh right, fine, defend him. Are you still in love with him, is that it?” Arthur looks a strange mixture of hurt and pissed off.

“No. Finding him in bed with someone else cured me of my infatuation with Gwaine.” He walks up to Arthur like he’s trying to stop him bolting and puts his arms around his waist. “I promise you, I’m not in love with Gwaine.” He kisses Arthur gently, ignoring the catcalls of a couple of passersby. “Come back to mine?”

“I thought we were getting something to eat?”

Merlin shrugs. “I’m not a chef, but I can probably not give us food poisoning.”

“What a glowing recommendation, Merlin! Why did you want to take me out when you could have just tried to not give me food poisoning?”

“We could try and get in somewhere else if you want? Or I could ask Tony if he can squeeze us in tomorrow night.”

Arthur shakes his head. “I promised Gwen and Morgana I would go out with them tomorrow night. Anyway, can you even get two nights off in a row?”

“They owe me a little holiday. I thought seeing as you are going home on friday, I could take it and we could spend some time together.”

“Won’t your boss mind?”

Merlin shrugs. “The season is drawing to a close here, it’s not as busy as it was. I’ll probably be heading to London myself before too much longer.” He leaves it hanging there. Does Arthur even want to see him back in the real world?

Arthur says nothing, and Merlin’s heart drops. His magic starts curling around Arthur almost in a panic, like it’s trying to make him stay. 

“At least come out with me tomorrow during the day?”

“I’m sorry.” Arthur leans in and kisses him briefly. “But Gwen and Morg brought me on holiday, they are paying for the hotel and everything, and I’ve barely seen them. I promised Gwen we’d go scuba diving whilst we’re here, it’ll be our last chance. And I need to take them both out to dinner to say thank you, I could never have afforded all this on my salary.”

“Are you sure you have to go home? Everywhere needs nurses, you could stay.” Merlin tightens his grip around Arthur’s waist, pulling him tightly to him, even as his magic does the same, and resting their foreheads together.

Arthur kisses him on the cheek. “I’m needed at home.” Merlin never really expected him to say anything different. Arthur has his own life and his own friends at home, he doesn’t need Merlin. He’s rushing everything again, jumping in with both feet. He pushed things too fast with Gwaine, fell head over heels when Gwaine clearly never saw them as anything more than a fling, and now he’s doing the same thing with Arthur. This is a holiday romance, not some deep and meaningful love of your life type romance, no matter what Merlin feels.

“Come on, let’s make the most of tonight then.” Merlin says lightly. “We can pick up a pizza on the way back to mine.” He releases Arthur’s waist and turns to walk back towards his apartment. He can do this, he can keep things fun and casual. He’s only known Arthur for less than two weeks after all.

“Actually.” Arthur makes not move to go with him, an unhappy frown maring his face. “I think maybe I’ll just head back to the hotel. Don’t want to fall asleep and drown whilst scuba diving.”

“Oh. Right.” Merlin studies Arthur’s face, looking for some sign that he’s not trying to finish things. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to pressure you.”

Arthur gives him a tired smile. “It’s fine, Merlin. I just think a night apart might do us good.”

“Ok. I understand.” He tries to smile but he knows it doesn’t reach his eyes. He does understand, of course he does. Arthur is on holiday, he had a fling with the bartender, now he’s winding it down. Of course. “I’ll see you tomorrow then.”

“Scuba diving,” Arthur reminds him.

Merlin nods. “Ok. Have a nice time. Oh, hey, one of the instructors is a guy called Lance, tell him you know me and he’ll pull out the stops for you.”

“Thanks.” Arthur does that smile he does that makes the sun come out at nine o’clock in the evening and Merlin’s belly does a sad little flip-flop at what he is inevitably going to lose, either right now or in three days when Arthur goes home. 

And then, just to add insult to injury, Arthur leans in to kiss him on the cheek again, like he was his uncle or something. And it is all Merlin can do to hold it together till he is safely back in the privacy of his flat.

Being at work on a day you had planned to take off sucks. He should be spending as much time as possible with Arthur, not stuck behind a bar. Why hadn’t he asked to go scuba diving with them?

And now, to make matters worse, a certain person seems to be completely unable to tell when he is not wanted. 

“What do you want, Gwaine?” He can’t even be bothered to be nice. 

“Ah now come on, you love me really.” Gwaine settles himself down on a stool and takes off his sunglasses, grinning at Merlin like he didn’t ruin his date with Arthur.

Wow. The sad thing is Merlin had been in love with this plonker, not that long ago. Now he is starting to wonder what he ever saw in him. He just shakes his head and serves the lady at the other end of the bar.

“No nursie today?” Gwaine says next time Merlin comes near.

Merlin grinds his teeth together. “Arthur is out with his friends, we don’t live in each other’s pockets.”

“Bored of you already? I thought a holiday romance was at least supposed to last the holiday.” Gwaine casts a disparaging eye over the cocktail list before throwing it down in disgust. “You really are better than this place you know.”

“Were you always this much of an arse?” Merlin picks up the list and puts it back where it’s supposed to be. “I’m sure I remember you being nicer.”

Gwaine sighs, and just for a moment he looks sad. “I’m sorry, Merlin.”

“For?” Because the list is getting longer and Gwaine could be sorry for any number of things.

“For being a twat.”

“Seriously?” Wow, points for honesty!

“And for how it ended between us.” Gwaine is clearly on a roll now, best not to interrupt. “I think we could have been friends, good friends, and I ruined that. And I came here to make it better, but now I’m making things worse, because, according to Elly, that’s what I do. And Leon is mad at me for coming to Ibiza on our honeymoon when I knew you worked here.” 

Merlin is quiet for a moment. “We were more than just friends,” he says eventually. “Or we were to me, anyway.”

Gwaine nods. “I know. To me too, believe it or not.” His mouth twists into a funny little smile that almost looks like a grimace. “I really am sorry, Merlin. I can’t offer you more, but I would like us to at least be friends again.”

Merlin bites his lip even as he half nods. “What does that even mean? And what makes you think I’d have taken you back anyway?”

“No, of course.” The snark is back in Gwaine’s voice. “You have your little nursie, at least for now.”

“Stop it!” Merlin says sharply. “Just stop. Arthur has done nothing to you, leave him alone.”

“Oh come on, you don’t honestly expect me to believe you could be happy with someone like that? Saint Arthur with his blond hair and his healing hands.” When did Gwaine become so bitter?

“You’re jealous!” Merlin isn’t sure why he didn’t see it before when it is so glaringly obvious.

“I’m not! Why would I be jealous? I have Leon, he’s successful, he’s handsome, he knows how to actually have fun, which is something you seem to have forgotten about. You seem to have found yourself a Ken doll, I wouldn’t be surprised if he’s plastic and has no cock. Is that seriously the best you can do?”

“He has a very nice cock, thanks.” Merlin folds his arms and glowers. How could he have thought Gwaine actually wanted to be friends?

“Nice. Yeah, I’m sure he’s very nice. All the rich people who come in this bar, and you managed nice but poor. Well fucking done. I thought you wanted your own bar? Is he going to buy you that on a nurse’s salary?”

“I don’t need someone else to buy me a bar!” What is he, so hopeless he needs a sugar daddy?

“Really? Because Leon’s offered to buy me one. Maybe you could come and work for me.”

“You know, for a second there, I actually thought you meant it, that you were sorry.” He gives up. Gwaine is not who he thought. Gwaine is a tosser of the highest magnitude.

“I am!” Gwaine throws his hands up like it’s Merlin who is being unreasonable. “I’m looking out for you, Merlin. Can you honestly picture yourself setting up home with him back in London? You in a dead-end job to pay the bills? Assuming, of course, that this is anything more than a holiday shag for him. You are the best bartender I know – and I know me! You could do so much better.”

“Oh really?” Merlin is not sure that better than Arthur exists. “Such as who? You?”

Gwaine leans back and looks around the bar. It is still early, most people are not drinking yet. “What about her?” He nods to the woman at the end of the bar. “I bet you she has a pretty penny. Older woman, on her own. How could she resist the charm of the handsome barman?”

“That would be completely unethical. I’m not here to prey on vulnerable women.”

“Who says she’s vulnerable?”

“You pretty much just did.”

“Fine. Just talk to her, make her feel special. That is part of the job, you know. If she wants to take it further, that is up to her.”

“Gwaine…”

“You don’t have the balls, do you? That is why you will always end up with someone not worthy of you.”

“Like you?” Merlin says again, just to push the point.

“Just talk to her.” A crafty look comes over Gwaine’s face. “Assuming you can.”

“Of course I _can_.” Merlin is not going to fall for this. No, really, he’s not.

“Have I taught you nothing? This job is about flirting with people, making them feel special, making them want to come back, just to see you.”

“Is that all you were ever doing with me?” Point to Merlin.

“Ah jeez, no! We were good together.”

“Right.”

Gwaine rolls his eyes. Merlin understands Gwaine, probably too well. He thinks that by apologising everything is fine now, and therefore Merlin is being unreasonable by not quite forgiving. That charm Gwaine is so proud of has got him out of scrapes his entire life.

“What are you two talking about?” For such a tall man, Leon is remarkably good at approaching unseen. It is actually quite funny to see the guilty jump Gwaine gives at the sound of his husband’s voice, almost making him fall off his stool.

“Just trying to persuade Merlin here that there are plenty more fish in the sea,” Gwaine says innocently. Merlin could cheerfully push him off that stool himself.

“Oh, I’m sorry, did something happen with Arthur?” Leon looks genuinely concerned, which reaffirms Merlin’s suspicion that he is probably far too good for Gwaine.

“No.” Merlin glares at Gwaine. “Other than my ex crashing our date last night.”

Leon frowns. “So why do there need to be other fish?”

“All I’m saying is that Merlin could do better.” Gwaine smirks at Merlin.

“I thought Arthur seemed like a nice bloke.” Leon is still frowning.

“He is, he’s the best,” Merlin replies, hoping this will be the end of it.

“So why…” Leon begins again. 

“Because Gwaine is being a twat,” Merlin snaps angrily. He immediately regrets it, this is not Leon’s fault. “Sorry, Leon. I’m not cross with you.”

“I’m just saying, Merlin should ask that woman over there to go for a drink,” Gwaine persists.

“For the last time, no. Just drop it, ok?” Merlin really has had enough, he’s going to bar Gwaine soon, and technically he’s not allowed to do that. Perhaps he could give him boils. Or make him impotent…

Leon smiles, unaware of how close his husband is to doom, and wraps his long arms around Gwaine’s middle, placing a kiss on the top of his head. “I suspect you are just causing trouble for trouble’s sake.” He looks back up at Merlin, his smile more apologetic this time. “How about I get this one out of your hair.”

Merlin does his best to return the smile, holding it on his face until Gwaine and Leon are finally out of sight. This is so typical, of course Gwaine gets his happy ending. No doubt Arthur will go home and meet Mr Right too, and Merlin will just be left here, serving drinks and listening to everyone else’s woes like the bartender he is. 

He shakes himself. “Stop feeling so sorry for yourself,” he says out loud.”

“Well that’s a bit rude.” The woman at the end of the bar is look at the bottom of her glass, but he’s sure she is talking to him.

“I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean you!” He moves closer to her, intending to offer her another drink.

“Well I fail to see anyone else here.” She pointedly looks around the bar. Now that Gwaine’s gone, she is indeed the only customer in here. Most of the hotel guests are probably out enjoying the sunshine.

“There’s always me.” Merlin attempts his best, most charming bartender smile. “How about I get you another drink. On the house. We have some pretty good cocktails.”

“I take it this is all part of the plan you and your friend cooked up where you whore yourself out to me?” She gives him a shrewd look.

“I… no!” Merlin can feel his cheeks burning. He is actually going to kill Gwaine.

“Really?” Her looks says she doesn’t believe him. “Well then, your friend needs to learn to talk more quietly.”

“Look, I am really sorry about him. I promise it was me he was trying to humiliate, not you.”

“So, being seen with me would humiliate you?” The phrase ‘ballbreaker’ is playing around in his head. Typical, Gwaine buggers off and leaves Merlin to deal with a woman who is, quite frankly, scary as hell.

“No! It’s just my… the person I’ve been seeing. Gwaine doesn’t approve and thinks I could do better. So you see, you’re the better option.” He tries the smile again.

“So, where is this girlfriend of yours?”

He doesn’t bother to correct her, even though he knows he should. “Gone out with friends.”

“And left you all alone.” She doesn’t actually say ‘aww, diddums’; she doesn’t need to.

“I’ll survive, I’m a big boy.”

She raises an eyebrow and, for the first time, a smile makes its way onto her face. “Well, that remains to be seen.”

Merlin can feel his face heat up. He’d walked right into that one, all that time living with Gwaine and he still hadn’t learned.

“When do you finish work?” She is looking at him intently, and he knows if he even attempts to lie, she’ll be onto him.

He glances at his watch. “In about half an hour.”

“And your girlfriend, when will she be back?” 

“Uh…”

“I’ll assume she won’t, or your scruffy friend wouldn’t have been trying to set you up with me.”

“I…”

“Look,” she cuts in, ignoring him. “My ex-stepson is getting married. I’m supposed to be at the reception. It’s the only reason I’m here, so I really should go. The trouble is, my ex-husband will also be there, with his new jailbait girlfriend.”

Merlin is not stupid, he can see where this is going. The trouble is, he can think of no good excuse to get out of it. And what harm can it do? Arthur doesn’t want to see him tonight anyway – he’s not even sure if Arthur wants to see him again at all.

“Ok.” 

She smiles at him and holds out her hand. “I’m Annis, by the way. You can pick me up in the lobby at seven thirty. Dress smart.”

He can’t help feeling like he’s cheating on Arthur, which is ridiculous because he’s not actually doing anything other than standing in one of the reception rooms at a neighbouring hotel, drinking champagne and talking.

Annis turns out to be pretty good company. She is intelligent and well versed in any number of subjects. She is a solicitor in Oxford, a QC and head of her own firm. Her divorce had not been a amicable one. Merlin in turn finds himself telling her all about Arthur and Gwaine, and even Freya.

As the evening goes on, the champagne continues to flow. And the thing is, Merlin can’t even blame Annis for drinking too much, even as he tries to limit her alcohol intake. In her situation, he’d have run as far away as possible, but she came for her stepson, and will not show weakness now. Her ex is clearly trying his best to rub her nose in it, and oh boy doesn’t Merlin know how that feels. 

So Merlin does what any decent human being would do. He sets out to make her feel special. He channels Gwaine and turns the flirty bartender up to eleven, asking Annis to dance and making sure she feel special; making everyone else in the room think they are a couple. And sure enough, before long it is the ex-husband who is looking jealous.

By about midnight, as the party is starting to wind down, Annis has definitely imbibed too much champagne and is swaying where she stands. Merlin tucks one arm around her, making it look like an intimate gesture whilst actually holding her upright. “How about we take this back to our hotel?” he says loudly enough for the husband to hear.

With some effort, Merlin manages to get Annis outside. The fresh air outside seems to wake her up a little, which is fortunate because he did not fancy carrying her back. 

“Let’s go down to the beach.” She is off before he can stop her, unsteady in her expensive heels.

“Wait!” He hurries after her. He can’t let her go down there by herself, knowing his luck she’ll fall into the sea and drown.

The beach is not far from either the hotel where the reception was or the one where he works, where Annis is staying, and it doesn’t take long for her to kick off her shoes and run down to the water. Sighing, Merlin picks up the shoes as he goes. A few minutes ago, she had been practically asleep on her feet.

“Isn’t this beautiful?” She throws her arms out as though to embrace the whole ocean and twirls around, the waves lapping at her feet. “You should bring your Arthur down here.” She sways precariously and Merlin rushes forward to catch her.

“Hey, steady on, I bet that dress wouldn’t take kindly to sea water.”

“Hmm.” She throws her arms around his neck and rests her head on his chest. “You are a good man, Merlin. Promise me you will go and work things out with your Arthur. He’s very lucky to have you.”

They stand like that for a few minutes, and Merlin starts to worry that she might actually have fallen asleep. It’s only when his shirt starts to feel wet that he realises she is crying.

“Come on, let’s get you back to the hotel.” He manoeuvres them around slightly so they are facing in the the right direction. She stays clinging to him, her head resting on his shoulder now, but manages to walk back along the beach.

Merlin’s magic feels agitated, bristling to to get out. He knows something is wrong but he can’t put his finger on what.

He never sees the lone figure standing at the top of the beach, moonlight glinting off his hair.

The Annis that answers the door the next morning does not look like a woman he’d tucked into her bed next to a glass of water and an aspirin the night before. Instead, she is the perfectly composed woman he met at the bar.

“Ah, Merlin! My perfect gentleman. How would you like to come and have some breakfast with me?”

Merlin’s never been one to turn down free food and happily goes down to the restaurant with her.

“Are you planning on staying on Ibiza once the season is over?” Annis is just drinking black coffee whilst hiding behind a large pair of sunglasses. Perhaps she is not as unaffected by her alcohol intake as she is pretending.

Merlin shakes his head and waits to swallow his food before answering. “I think I’ll head back to London, I should be able to get some bar work.”

“And you’re happy with that, are you? Bar work?” From the tone of her voice, Merlin’s answer should be ‘no’. 

The trouble is, yes, he is happy with bar work. He loves bar work. He loves talking to the customers, he love taking pride in his work, he loves the variety… He takes the safe option and avoids answering by shrugging and taking a big bite out of his toast. 

“What if I were to offer you a job working for me in Oxford?”

He nearly chokes on the toast. “I don’t know anything about soliciting.”

Annis actually laughs out loud. “As soliciting is actually another term for prostitution, I should hope not. But I am in need of a personal assistant, and you have shown yourself to be trustworthy and reliable.”

“You don’t know anything about me.”

“I know enough. There are many men, your friend Gwaine included, no doubt, who would have attempted to take advantage of me in your situation last night, either for sex or money. You put me to bed and made sure I had pain relief, and then checked on me again this morning.”

“So you want to give me a job because I’m not a rapist? Because hopefully that description applies to most people – and I really don’t think Gwaine would do that.” This conversation is making him feel really uncomfortable. Surely people didn’t get rewarded just for not being evil? “I really didn’t do anything anyone else wouldn’t have done.”

“I like to think I am a fairly good judge of character, Merlin. You are right, acting like a decent person should not need comment, but you also looked out for me all night. You didn’t know me, you didn’t have to take me to the wedding reception at all, let alone make sure I got back to the hotel. And you didn’t ask for a single thing in return.”

“No offence, Annis, but you were hardly in a fit state to get yourself back to the hotel.” Merlin shakes his head in protest. “I honestly didn’t do anything that deserves rewarding. If I had done nothing, I might have deserved your anger. If I had taken advantage I would have deserved to go to jail. But just helping you out, that is nothing special.”

She reaches into her purse and pushes something across the table to him. “Take my card. If you change your mind about the job, or if you ever need my help in any way, call me.”

Merlin nods his thanks and puts her card in his pocket.

“Now, when are you going to see your young man?” 

“This morning, I was on my way there now but wanted to make sure you were alright first.”

She smiles. “Glad to hear it. Don’t let this one slip through your fingers, Merlin.”

There is no response from Arthur’s room. He can only assume, as he didn’t see them in the restaurant, that they’ve gone down to the beach early to make the most of their last day.

It would be nice to know where they were though, he would really like to spend some time with Arthur before he leaves, Gwen and Morgana too, but mainly Arthur. There is a certain relief, therefore, when he spots Morgana standing at the reception desk down in the lobby.

“Morgana, hi, do you know where Arthur is?” He goes up to her with a big smile on his face. He is absolutely not expecting her fist to come flying up and smack him in the face, or the sickening crunching noise as his nose is pushed sideways.

“Ow, fuck that hurts.” She shakes out her hand and flexes her fingers. Then she turns on him again. “You scrawny, cheating little bastard! Do you have any idea how difficult it is for my brother to trust people?”

“I think you broke my dose!” There is blood running into his mouth and he just might throw up on her. 

“Aww diddums, shame you don’t know a nurse who can fix it. Come anywhere near Arthur again and I will break more than your nose.” She looks for all the world like she’s about to punch him again so he takes a step back.

“Wait! What am i supposed to have done?” His nose doesn’t feel right, he’s sure it’s broken.

“Oh, let me see, Merlin, what could you possibly have done?” The look in her eyes screams hatred and makes him take another step back till he feels the reception counter digging into his back. “How does ‘rich cougar’ sound? By all accounts, you did her.”

“I what?” Cougar? Does she mean Annis? Nothing even happened? And how do they know about her anyway? “I didn’t do anything!”

“Stop playing the fucking innocent. He saw you, you complete arse.” She shoves him back against the reception desk till he is sure he will have bruises on his back. “He went looking for you and he saw you all over her in that hotel. He saw you on the beach and he saw you go up to her room. I hope she gave you the clap. He’s gone, by the way, he left for the airport first thing, so don’t bother looking.” Morgana turns on her heel and walks away, leaving him to drip blood onto the marble floor while the receptionist glares at him.


	3. Part Three

Oxford is a perfectly nice city. Nice, nicety, nice.

Merlin hates nice.

He also hates his new, boring, job.

It is far better paid than any of his bar jobs, not including tips. Merlin and Gwaine had always done exceptionally well on tips. But it is just so boring.

He misses the people, both staff and customers. He misses performing his little magic tricks with the bottles which, rather ironically, he hardly ever needs magic for anymore. He misses the professional pride with which he could mix a cocktail. There is no achievement to be felt, answering phones all day and making coffee. He’s pretty sure Annis regrets offering him the job.

He’s been here two months exactly, and the only good thing he can say about it is that at least he’ll be able to afford to buy his mum a decent Christmas present this year.

His magic has an unpleasant itchy feeling – not the pleasant buzz that means that something good is going to happen, more of a scratchy feeling under the skin, like hives. It could just be him feeling miserable and cooped up behind this desk. It could be that Christmas is in two weeks and he has no one to spend it with.

It’s cold in the office, Annis seems to prefer it that way. Even so, he swears a further chill hits him moments before the door opens and a tall imposing man with iron grey hair and a haughty scowl sweeps into the room.

He knows this man. Uther Pendragon, Archbishop of Camelot, his nemesis. Well no, he doesn’t actually know him, not personally. And the Archbishop definitely doesn’t know who Merlin is, he hopes. But he’s seen him on the telly and in the paper often enough, and everything he stands against is everything Merlin is. 

This man is the reason he grew up being afraid to use his magic, the reason he’s wary of telling people he likes men, the reason someone like Arthur finds himself disowned just for coming out. Uther Pendragon is the champion of the old fashioned values brigade, anti-magic, anti anyone not completely like him – sexist, racist, xenophobic, homophobic, all under the illusion of morality and christianity.

He’s supposed to smile at him, offer to take his coat, show him to a seat, offer to make him a coffee. Instead, he just sits and stares, mouth open. He can’t do this, he can’t be in the same room as Uther Pendragon. 

“Uther.” Annis’s cool voice from the doorway to the inner office breaks Merlin from his panic-trance. “I wasn’t aware you had an appointment.”

“Annis.” Uther nods to her, thankfully choosing to ignore Merlin. “I was rather hoping you could fit me in, you know what it’s like, busy schedule.”

“Yes, I do know what it is like, that’s why I expect clients to make an appointment.” Annis’s cool, unflappable demeanour is starting to calm Merlin down a little.

“Unless I am very much mistaken, you appear to be free now.” Uther makes a point of looking around at the empty office.

“I was rather under the impression that even solicitors were allowed a lunch break. But very well, I can give you five minutes now.” She holds the door open for him, giving a curt nod to Merlin before closing it again.

Merlin fights the urge to run away and stays at his desk. He‘s not about to leave Annis alone, with that creep.

Merlin’s been to these meetings before. All he’s supposed to do is sit and take notes while Annis terrifies people with her intelligence and cool logic.

Today it is worse though. Today it means sitting in the same room as Archbishop Pendragon while he tries to stop his own son getting his inheritance. Everytime he is in the same room as that man, his magic bristles to escape. Just last week it had spontaneously set off the fire alarm, the week before that it had exploded the coffee pot in Merlin’s hand, nearly scalding him. 

Of course, what Merlin had not anticipated had been the son. He hadn’t even known that Uther Pendragon had a son, let alone that he was called Arthur. The name on Arthur’s driving licence had been DuBois, not Pendragon.

When Arthur sees him, his face goes completely white. Then he clocks Annis, his eyes darting between the two of them and Merlin thinks he is about to make an excuse and flee the room. Arthur is clearly made of sterner stuff than he thought, however, and he takes his seat at the table. For the rest of the meeting he chooses to pretend Merlin does not exist.

Seeing now what Arthur has had to grow up with, Merlin is starting to understand what Morgana meant about him finding it hard to let people in. Merlin grew up with no father at all; he clearly got the better end of the deal. 

“My wife and I had no children, this man is entitled to no part of her estate.” Uther seems to be pretending that his son is not in the room, even as he tries to cheat him out of his mother’s money. 

“You raised me for twenty years!”

“Arthur.” Arthur’s own lawyer, a young man called Elyan, puts his hand on Arthur’s arm and shakes his head. “Let me do the talking.”

Arthur’s face has an unhappy crease between his eyes and his mouth is tense and downturned. He is staring down at his hands and won’t look at anyone else in the room.

It takes a moment for Merlin to realise that he is so busy staring at Arthur, he is not paying any attention to what is being said and definitely not taking notes like he is supposed to be. He snaps his attention back to the discussion in time to hear the Archbishop call his son some very choice names.

“… is owed nothing. Do you hear me? Nothing.” There is pure venom in Uther’s voice, all directed straight at Arthur.

“Hey, that’s not fair!” Merlin is speaking up before the rest of his brain kicks in and tells him not to.

“Merlin.” Annis’s voice is sharp.

“Sorry.” He isn’t sorry, not even a little bit, and he’s pretty sure they can all hear that in his voice.

The meeting drags on. Merlin doesn’t understand how Annis can defend Uther, the man is repugnant. Arthur’s mouth is becoming more and more downturned with every passing moment, and there is nothing Merlin wants to do more than go and kiss it better.

When the talking finally draws to a close, Merlin breathes a sigh of relief and heads to the loo, locking himself in one of the stalls and sitting on the closed lid of the toilet.

This job is a good one, he should be grateful. 

He still hates it. 

Maybe he should just tell Annis he wants out. Thanks but no thanks. He has plenty of experience in bar work, he could get a job pretty much anywhere. 

He hears the outer door to the toilets open and someone goes into the cubicle next to him. He stands up, not really wanting to listen to someone else peeing, or worse. A moment later he hears something thud against the wall and a familiar voice cursing.

“Are you alright?” he asks through the divider.

“Oh wonderful, it’s you, that’s all I needed.” Arthur’s voice is bitter.

“Arthur…”

“Can you just leave me alone, Merlin?” He sounds tired. Is he looking after himself properly? “I really could do with a bit of space right now, and I can’t deal with you or your girlfriend.”

“She’s not—” 

“Please.” Yes, that’s it, tired more than bitter. Like he just has no fight left in him.

Merlin gets up and leaves without saying another word. He can tell when Arthur’s had enough and needs his space. He won’t let this be the end of it though. Things have gone on long enough, and he won’t let Arthur go again without a fight.

“Merlin, a word.” Annis is standing in the door to her office.

With a sigh, he turns and goes over. “What’s up?”

“Why do I get the feeling that Arthur Pendragon and your Arthur are the same person?” Nothing gets past Annis, he learnt that quite quickly.

Merlin shifts uncomfortably. “He’s not my Arthur.”

“You know what I mean. Don’t play stupid.”

He stares down at his shoes for a moment. They could do with a clean. “Yes,” he says to his shoes. He looks up at Annis. “Yes, he’s the same Arthur. I didn’t realise until he got here, I promise. He goes by the name DuBois, I didn’t know he had anything to do with Uther Pendragon.”

She nods. “He’s an admirable young man, I can see why you fell for him. But Merlin, you can’t have anything to do with him while this case is ongoing, you know that, don’t you?”

He hopes his laugh doesn’t sound quite so high pitched to her as it does to him. “That won’t be a problem. He doesn’t want anything to do with me.”

“I’m sorry, Merlin, truly I am.” She reaches out to pat his arm, just like his mum usually does.

He looks up at her and decides to risk a version of a question that’s been playing in his head since Uther first walked through the office door. “Why are you working with his father?” 

“Uther is our client, Merlin. He pays our wages.”

“But why?” He can hear the whiny coming through in his voice and tries to tone it down. “You’re not exactly in need of the money! You could take any client you wanted.”

“Everyone deserves representation.” Still so calm and collected, even with her employee being so rude about a client.

“Even a miserable, nasty old bigot?” Because Merlin clearly wants to get fired. Although, to be honest, would he really be that upset? He could go back to working behind a bar where he’s happy.

“Arthur seems to be doing perfectly well on the representation front.” She seems to refuse to get ruffled. He knows she can lose her temper, he’s heard her on the phone to her ex and been glad it wasn’t him. “Elyan Smith is a very good solicitor, I’m thinking of offering him a job. Do you know him at all?”

Merlin shakes his head. “I guess I don’t even know Arthur really, let alone his friends. I messed everything up before we got that far.”

She pats his arm again. “If things are supposed to work themselves out then they will. If they are not, something better will come. Now, why don’t you get off home. Oh, and don’t forget I need those contracts on my desk first thing.”

“Yes, I’ll bring them through in a moment.” The contracts are, of course, still sitting untouched in Merlin’s in tray. Fortunately, it only takes a quick whispered spell for them to start correcting themselves while Merlin gathers his stuff together. 

He is out of the building in record time. When he gets home he’s definitely going to start looking for bar work, he could even do both jobs…

“You will not get your grasping hands on my wife’s property, do I make myself clear?” He hears Uther’s voice before he rounds the corner.

“It is mine by rights, she was my mother.” Arthur, of course. Who else would Uther be so vile to. “Why shouldn’t I have something of hers? You kept it from me, and from Uncle Agravaine. It’s not right.”

Merlin speeds up. They are standing on the edge of the carpark, Uther’s Bentley (it has to be his) is blocking in a scruffy little Vauxhall Corsa. 

“It is not rightfully yours. Is it not enough that Ygraine gave her life for a worthless, godless abomination like you? You’ll get nothing else from her.” The look of hatred on Uther’s face is enough to make Merlin stop in his tracks. He’s not sure how Arthur is managing to stand up to him without just withering away in the face of such righteous anger.

“I am not worthless.” Arthur holds his head up high, looking haughty and regal like Uther is beneath contempt. “It’s taken me a long time to see that, thanks to you. I help people, I try to make their lives better. I believe my mother would have been proud of me.” It is quite possible that Merlin has never loved Arthur more than in this moment.

“Ygraine would have been ashamed of your very existence.” Uther’s lips are turned up in a sneer. 

“Gentlemen, why don’t we save this for the official negotiations.” Elyan, Arthur’s solicitor, walks past Merlin to stand between the two.

Uther’s sneer turns towards Elyan. “Does he need you to fight all his battles? Is he really that spineless? I don’t need to ask how he affords a solicitor, do I? Services rendered, no doubt.”

Arthur moves, almost as though he’s going to strike his father. Merlin rushes forward and grabs his arm. “Don’t, he’s not worth an ABH charge.”

Arthur shakes him off with an angry glare before turning back to his father. “Elyan is a _brother_ to me!”

“A brother? How could he possibly be your brother? Look at the colour of his skin.” That sneer makes Merlin’s skin crawl and he’s sure Arthur must feel him shudder. How can he be so coldly hateful? What on earth makes him think he is better than anyone else?

“He is more family to me than you ever were. The Smiths took me in when you threw me out with nothing, they fed me, clothed me, put a roof over my head. Their support enabled me to undertake and complete my nursing training. How dare you look down your nose at him? He is worth a million of you.”

“Come on, Arthur.” Elyan pulls on Arthur’s arm. “Let’s get out of here.”

“I would, if someone hadn’t parked this ostentatious pile of crap in the way.” Arthur gestures to the Bentley.

Uther sniffs and looks with disdain at the other car. “Is that yours? I hadn’t realised.” Yeah, right. Uther walks over to the Bentley and a chauffeur leaps out to open the back door. 

Merlin’s pretty sure no one sees his eyes flash gold, but Uther Pendragon is going to have the biggest boil on his bum tomorrow.

“Glad to see the church’s money is being well spent,” Arthur calls after him as Uther climbs in the back of the car.

“Arthur, come on,” Elyan says again. 

Arthur looks over at Merlin, and just for a second, it looks like he’s going to say something. Instead, he turns and climbs into the driver’s seat of the battered old car. 

“You’re _that_ Merlin, aren’t you?” Elyan is looking at Merlin with mistrust.

“I suppose I must be.” Does that mean Arthur’s mentioned him?

Elyan nods. “There is a picture of you on his phone. He doesn’t think we know he still has it.”

Merlin opens his mouth to speak, but Elyan doesn’t give him chance.

“My sister told me what you did. Just leave Arthur alone, ok? He doesn’t need this.” And with that, Elyan turns and gets into Arthur’s car.

“Arthur!”

Ok, so maybe stalking someone at their place of work smacks of desperation, but it’s November and too cold to stalk him outside. 

“What are you doing here, Merlin?” Arthur looks tired. He also looks hot as hell in his dark blue charge nurse’s uniform.

Merlin panics. What does he say to win back the love of his life?

“I, uh… I have a chronic case of stupidity. Thought I’d better get it checked out.” He attempts a winning smile whilst inwardly wincing at his own words.

Arthur looks at him, an unhappy little line creasing his brow. He shakes his head. “I’m not sure there is any cure, sorry. I have to get back to work.”

“Arthur wait.”

“I really am busy, Merlin. That’s the thing about Accident and Emergency departments, they are busy. People thinking they can go around inconveniently hurting themselves just to interfere with your social life.”

“Meet me after your shift then.”

“I have plans, sorry.”

 

***

 

“Please, nurse, I’m looking for a cure for a broken heart.”

“I think you need to have a heart in order to break it.”

 

***

 

“Arthur please, I just want to talk.” He’s not going to try any cheesy lines on Arthur anymore, he’s not Gwaine. Merlin’s never felt the need to not be himself with Arthur, it’s time he went back to it.

“I have absolutely nothing to say to you. Would you please stop harassing me?”

“Come on, Arthur! Don’t I at least deserve to have my say?”

“What, so you can spin me a good yarn? As far as I can see, you and Gwaine are exactly the same. And as for Annis, she’s welcome to you. Couldn’t happen to a nicer woman. Now, leave me alone.”

“I’m not with Annis!”

“So what, you thought you’d come and mess with my head again? Tell me, did she finally see through you, or did you cheat on her?”

“I didn’t cheat on anyone! Please, just come and have a drink with me. Just one. I’m buying.”

Arthur appears to think for a moment. “If I agree, will you promise to leave me alone? Even if you don’t like what I have to say?”

Merlin nods eagerly. “Yes, anything, I promise. Just hear me out.” There is no way Arthur won’t take him back when he hears that Merlin never cheated on him, so the promise will be moot.

“Fine, I finish in half an hour. I’ll meet you in the White Hart across the road.”

The pub opposite the hospital is a dive. The scary woman behind the bar dumps his beer down; it is more foam than liquid, and a good portion of it slops over the sides of the lipstick-marked glass. Deciding it would be more than his life is worth to complain (she is twice his size with tattoos) he takes his drink over to the table least covered in beer and heaven knows what else and resolves not to drink it.

How on earth can healthcare professionals bear to drink in a germtrap like this? How can a bar in such a prime position be in this state? If it was his bar, it would look nothing like it currently does, it would be clean and bright, somewhere people would want to come. He’d serve cocktails to all the weary nurses and brighten up their day.

There are dishevelled Christmas decorations hanging from the ceiling in someone’s half-hearted attempt to acknowledge that it is finally December, and posters up trying to persuade people to spend New Year’s Eve here. Like anyone would want to waste their New Year here!

After what feels like far more than half an hour, Arthur walks in, all shiny and clean and looking most out of place.

“Hi Mary, usual please.” Arthur looks tired as he walks up to the bar. Merlin’s magic starts to reach out to try and soothe him, and he feels the need to run his hand down that perfect face to smooth the troubles away. Instead he reins his magic in and lets it sit there, humming happily under his skin to have Arthur so close.

“That NHS still working you too hard?” Mary asks, presenting Arthur with a fairly decent looking pint of bitter, none of which gets sloshed over the side of the fairly clean-looking glass.

“Wouldn’t expect anything else.” Arthur takes a sip of his drink and smiles.

“There’s a shifty-looking bloke over there. I got my eye on him,” Mary says loudly as she nods over at Merlin. “If he causes any trouble, I’ll set the lads on him.”

‘The Lads’ are presumably the two giant men sitting at the end of the bar, tattoos covering every inch of skin. Merlin has no clue what he’s done wrong.

“It’s fine, Mary, he’s with me. As well you know.”

“You used to be more fun.” She actually sticks her tongue out at him. “Offer’s still there if you want it, Arthur. They’d never find the body.”

“I’ll keep it in mind,” Arthur calls back as he makes his way over to Merlin. “Sorry about that, Gwen showed her the picture on my phone and told her what a bastard you are.” He pulls up a chair and sits down. “Right, you have fifteen minutes. I’ve just done a double shift and I have a hot shower followed by pizza and falling asleep in front of Game of Thrones planned.”

“Sounds good, need company?” He mentally winces even as the words leave his mouth and he sees the shutters come down over Arthur’s face.

“Look, if you’re just here because you think I’m an easy lay, I really will let the twins do what they will with you.”

“No!” Merlin holds his hands up like it will prove his innocence. “I never thought that, I swear.”

“So what do you want?”

“I… look, things ended badly—”

Arthur interrupts him with a snort. “You could say that. What’s wrong, has your girlfriend thrown you out?”

“She’s not my girlfriend.”

“What is then? Your lady friend? Sugar mummy? Cougar?”

“She’s my boss. Ex-boss, actually. And my friend.”

“Right. So you just went from being a cocktail waiter to a legal secretary and you really expect me to believe you were not sleeping with her?”

“I’m not! I never was. And I was more of a PA than a legal secretary”

“I _saw you_ , Merlin. I was stupid enough to come looking for you, you were all over her in that hotel, and then on the beach you looked very intimate. You know, I’m not some naive hopeless romantic, I could have coped with a little holiday romance. But you made it out to be so much more, and like a sap I fell for it. You and Gwaine are exactly the same, aren’t you?”

“No! I am nothing like Gwaine.”

“Oh come on! You even dress like him.”

“We’re bartenders, it’s kinda what bartenders wear. Look, I accompanied Annis to a wedding. She had a little too much to drink and I helped her back to her hotel. Nothing happened.”

“You helped her back? Via the beach? And then what, you had to check her tonsils with your tongue?”

“What? I never kissed her! I swear to you, nothing happened. If anything, I spent the whole evening talking about you, I’m surprised she didn’t club me around the head with a bottle of champagne.”

“It’s fine, alright?” Arthur sighs. “I’m a big boy, I can get over a little heartbreak. It’s not like I’m going to have your baby or anything.”

Merlin nearly chokes on the beer he’d forgotten he wasn’t going to drink.

“Oh please, even you’re not that good in bed that you can get a bloke pregnant, Merlin.”

Merlin looks down guiltily. There is a possibility, however small, that someone with strong enough magic…

“Oh please tell me you are joking.” Arthur is looking at him aghast. “You have magic, don’t you? Is that just something else you couldn’t be bothered to tell me? How powerful are you that you think something like that is even a possibility?”

Merlin opens his mouth to deny it, but he can’t seem to make his voicebox work. 

“Were you even going to tell me? Should I get myself tested?”

“We used protection.” The words come out as a croak he barely recognised as his own voice. 

“You still should have told me it was a possibility!”

“It isn’t as simple as that. My magic would have to recognise you as my soulmate for there to even be an outside chance, and even then….”

Arthur gives him a funny little sad smile. “Well that’s alright then, so long as we aren’t soulmates.” He stands up and drains his drink. “Time’s up, I have to go.”

“No, wait!” His magic is thrumming so loud he can barely hear himself. Whatever he might be trying to tell Arthur, and himself, his magic disagrees wholeheartedly. Did Arthur want to be his soulmate? Merlin’s down with that!

“I can’t trust you, Merlin.” Arthur looks unhappy again, and it’s all Merlin’s fault. “I’m sorry, but I can’t. I’m not sure you’ve ever been honest with me at all.”

“Arthur, please.” He stands and catches Arthur’s sleeve. “You can trust me, I promise. I’m nothing like Gwaine, I wouldn’t cheat. And I would have told you about the magic sometime, but we barely had time. It’s not exactly something I just go blurting out to everyone I meet.”

Arthur lets out a hurt little laugh. “I could cope with not being your soulmate, Merlin, but I didn’t realise I counted as just any old person you meet. Thank you for letting me know my place.”

He nods to Mary on his way out, but he gives Merlin no further acknowledgement. He can feel all eyes on him as he traces patterns in the condensation on the side of his glass, but he won’t give them the satisfaction of running away with his tail between his legs.

“You don’t give up, I’ll give you that much.” 

He jumps, adding more beer to the mess on the table. He hadn’t heard Gwen approach, didn’t even know she was in the pub, and she doesn’t look happy to see him either. She is wearing hospital scrubs, like she came over in the middle of her shift just to tell him to go away.

“My brother asked you to leave Arthur alone. You don’t seem to have listened, so now I’m telling you. If you care about him at all, please. He’s had enough people mess him around.”

“I’m not trying to mess him around. I never messed him around.”

“He had a boyfriend once, not long after he qualified,” she continues like he hadn’t spoken. “A guy called Mordred, looked a bit like you. Arthur fell hard. Turned out to be a reporter trying to get a story on the Archbishop. Another one, Cedric, was just trying to get his hands on Uther’s money. When he found out that Arthur wouldn’t be getting any of it, he actually tried to beat him up – fortunately Arthur can more than handle himself. And then there was Julian. Julian cheated on him. With Mordred. And gave Mordred that story he’d always wanted. It was vile, made Arthur out to be some sort of sexual deviant who Uther had to distance himself from, like it was all Arthur’s fault. He nearly lost his job. So you see, I need you to leave him alone. Because getting over you seems to have been the hardest of the lot.” 

There is something about the way Gwen says it. She never raises her voice, never makes demands, is nothing other than polite and friendly, and yet what she says is final, and will not be argued with. 

“Now, I need to get back to work, the NHS doesn’t like doctors walking out in the middle of a shift to go to the pub. Just promise me, Merlin, please. Leave him alone.”

Merlin finds himself nodding mutely, even as his magic feels like it is slowly ripping him apart from the inside.

Christmas. He used to love Christmas. This year he is working Christmas Eve and Hunith is working Christmas Day, so he won’t even get to see his Mum till Boxing Day. Uncle Gaius sold The Skiving Scholar and has gone on a cruise. Will is spending Christmas with his new girlfriend. Which basically means he is completely alone at Christmas for the first time.

He gave up the nice cushy job in the solicitors and is once again pulling pints. And, because he’s pathetic, the pub he’s chosen is not some swanky cocktail bar in the West End, it’s a cosy little local in a certain town south west of London called Camelot. In other words, near Arthur. Not the White Hart, of course. Although he’d thought about it.

He’s kept his promise to Gwen, not that she actually let him decide one way or the other, and he’s not contacted Arthur again. But his magic feels more comfortable under his skin the closer he is to Arthur. Everything comes down to Arthur.

It’s getting on for four in the morning when he finally reaches the building housing the bedsit he currently calls home. He very nearly doesn’t see the person curled up beside the front door.

“Sorry mate!” He does a funny little dance to the side to avoid stepping on the rough-sleeper. Should he invite them in? No one should be sleeping rough in this cold wet weather. 

“Are you ok?” Merlin crouches down to get a better look at whoever is so unfortunate. His blood runs cold as he sees a familiar face. “Gwaine?” His friend looks rough, he’s never seen him like this. “What are you doing here? How long have you been there? Come on, let’s get you inside.” He tries to rouse Gwaine and pull him to his feet, put it’s like dragging a dead weight. “Come on mate, wake up.”

He’s spent a lot of time around very drunk people, and he would say he’s pretty good at spotting the signs. Gwaine has definitely been drinking, whisky by the smell of him. But the lack of response is unsettling. “Gwaine, what have you taken?”

Hands trembling, Merlin pulls his phone out of his pocket. “Ambulance please. My friend is unconscious. I don’t know, no. I just found him like this.” 

He patiently answers the questions and gives the operator his address. He struggles out of his coat while he waits, even though it’s freezing, and puts it over Gwaine. He has no idea how long Gwaine has been lying there, or even how he knew Merlin’s address, but at this rate he’ll freeze to death long before whatever he’s taken kills him. 

He finds Gwaine’s phone and tries to call Leon but gets no response. He tries twice more before the welcome blue lights appear and he waves the paramedics over. Another time and place, the duo might have made him laugh as a tiny woman and the world’s tallest man, even taller than Leon, quickly make their way over, but he is just too grateful that someone, anyone, is here. 

They let him ride with Gwaine in the ambulance. He’s starting to shake now and he’s not sure if it is with shock or the cold. 

He should have been prepared for it, when the door to the ambulance opens and a familiar voice says, “Who have you got for me, Perce?” Arthur doesn’t notice him at first, huddled back and out of the way. 

“Gwaine Greene, 34, suspected overdose,” Perce says. 

Merlin sees the moment the name registers with Arthur, Gwaine is not exactly the most common of names after all. Arthur stares down at the trolley for a moment, then he turns and his eyes seek out Merlin like it is impossible for Gwaine to be there without him.

“Arthur? You planning on getting out of the way any time soon?” The female paramedic pushes past to help get Gwaine out of the ambulance.

“Sorry, Mithian.” Arthur snaps out of it and helps get Gwaine inside. 

Merlin follows them into the hospital, all but forgotten about. Gwen appears from somewhere in full-on doctor mode and demands Gwaine be taken to resus. When Merlin tries to follow, Mithian holds him back with a sympathetic smile. “Why don’t you wait out here, he’s in good hands. 

He wanders down the corridor, unsure of where he is supposed to go or what he is supposed to do. He shouldn’t even be the one here worrying, he hasn’t seen or spoken to Gwaine since Ibiza. He leans back against the wall and pulls out Gwaine’s phone and tries ringing Leon again. It goes straight to voicemail. He’s already left two messages, no point in trying again. 

Slowly sinking down to the floor, he rubs at his eyes. How has everything gone so wrong?

The door to where they took Gwaine opens, and his magic is aware before he is that it is Arthur who walks through.

“Merlin?” Arthur walks up to him, the expression on his face softer than Merlin’s seen since Ibiza. “We do have chairs in the hospital, you know.”

Merlin opens his mouth to reply and to his horror, he realises he’s crying. Quicker than he can blink, Arthur is kneeling down next to him and taking him in his arms. “Hey, it’s alright, he’s going to be alright. He’s in good hands, Gwen is one of the best doctors in this hospital.”

Arthur pulls him to his feet and takes him into what Merlin assumes is the staffroom. 

“Members of the public shouldn’t be in here,” a blonde nurse says, glaring.

“Oh shut up, Morgause.” Arthur leads him over to a chair and busies himself with boiling the kettle. The other nurse sniffs and throws her magazine down and walks out.

“So, what happened?” Arthur hands him a piping hot cup which Merlin accepts gratefully.

“I’m not sure. I got home from work and found him on the doorstep.”

“He’s living with you?”

Merlin shakes his head. “I haven’t seen him in months. I’ve been trying to get hold of Leon but he’s not answering.” He waves Gwaine’s bright green phone as proof.

“Maybe he’s just not answering his husband’s ex-boyfriend in the middle of the night.”

“No, this is Gwaine’s phone, I don’t have Leon’s number.”

“Ok.” Arthur plucks the phone out of Merlin’s hand. “So let’s assume they’ve fallen out and Gwaine’s taken things too far so now Leon’s not answering him. I’ll make an official call from the hospital, it’ll be better coming from us anyway.”

“Thank you.”

When Arthur comes back from making the phone call, he takes one look at Merlin and hands him a mince pie from a tupperware box. “He’s already on his way, apparently you left a lot of messages. Here, Gwen made them, they’re good.”

Merlin is pretty sure he couldn’t eat a thing, but as he nibbles on the pastry out of politeness, he realises that it’s nearly six o’clock on Christmas morning, and he’s eaten nothing since lunch the previous day. And Gwen apparently makes a fabulous mince pie.

“You’re still in love with him, aren’t you?” Arthur sits next to him, biting his lip.

“Do you care?” Merlin’s being mean, mustn’t be mean. “Last time we spoke you pretty much wanted nothing to do with me.”

“Didn’t really think you’d take me so literally.” Arthur lifts one shoulder a tiny bit.

Wait, what? He’s been staying away for weeks and Arthur didn’t mean it? Does that mean…

“No, I’m not in love with him,” he says quickly. “I used to be, or maybe I used to be in love with the idea of him. I do love him, despite everything.” He stops when he sees Arthur’s face crumple and puts his hand out to him. “But I’m not _in_ love with him. He’s my friend. Or at least, he used to be.”

“You’ve forgiven him?” Arthur is still biting his lip. Merlin wants nothing more than to kiss his poor bitten lips better.

He finds himself nodding. “I don’t think I realised I had until tonight. Or this morning, whenever. He hurt me, but I think he hurts himself more. It’s like he has this self-destruct button that goes off every time he’s in danger of being happy. Whatever it is he’s done this time, I hope Leon can forgive him too.”

“Season of good will, I suppose.” Arthur looks like he’s about to continue, and Merlin finds himself holding his breath.

“Arthur?” The door to the staffroom bursts open and Gwen comes in. She gives Merlin a cold look and turns back to Arthur. “He’s going to be ok. We pumped his stomach and he has borderline hypothermia, but he’ll pull through. Did you manage to contact his family?”

Arthur nods, standing up. “Yes, his husband is on his way in.”

“Do you know what happened?” Merlin asks.

“I’m not going to discuss a patient with you.” Gwen is not going to let up. She really dislikes Merlin.

“Can I see him, at least?” 

“It’s family only.”

“Gwen, don’t.” Arthur sounds tired. “He’s his friend, let him see him.”

Gwen sighs. “Fine, he’s just about conscious, but woozy. Don’t upset him.”

“I’ll try not to.”

The version of Gwaine lying in the hospital bed looks so much smaller and paler than the larger-than-life Gwaine he is used to. There are massive dark circles under his eyes, and his usually perfect hair is a mess. Nevertheless, he smiles when he sees Merlin.

“Never do that again, you great big twerp.” Merlin can feel the tears starting to prick at his eyes again.

Gwen pointedly clears her throat behind him.

“What the hell happened, Gwaine?”

Gwaine shakes his head. When he does speak, his voice is a hoarse croak. “I fucked it all up, Merlin. I fucked it up just like I always do, and now he’s left me. And who can even blame him? Why did he ever marry a useless waste of space like me?”

“Because apparently I am a masochist.” Leon pushes the curtain aside, a worried frown on his face. He looks like he threw on the first clothes he came to and jumped straight in the car, and he is now sporting a rumpled pair of dress trousers and a university sweatshirt. He must have broken several speed restrictions to get here so fast.

“Leon.” Gwaine tries to sit up. “I’m sorry.”

Leon smiles briefly at Merlin and moves over to the bed, taking Gwaine’s hand. “I know.”

“Let’s leave them to it,” Arthur whispers behind Merlin. 

“Wait,” Gwaine says as they turn to go.

“What is it? Merlin says, turning back.

“I need to apologise, to Arthur. To both of you. I was being a dick, back in Ibiza. I’ve spent the last seven months waiting for Leon to come to his senses and leave me, and I’ve done everything in my power to make it happen. I saw how happy Merlin was and I think there was a bit of me wanted to ruin it for him too. I should never have said what I did about the bet.”

“What?” A sudden cold understanding washes over Merlin. “What bet? Gwaine, what did you say?”

It’s Arthur who answers. “He told me about the bet.”

“What bet?” Merlin asks again. What has Gwaine said? Does Arthur think he was dating him for a bet? Is this why it spiraled so out of control?

“We saw Gwaine that last night in Ibiza. We were at a club. He said you’d made a bet that you couldn’t pull someone rich like he did. Looks like you won.”

“But you’re not rich.” Merlin frowns. “And anyway, there was no bet! I swear to you, Arthur, I wasn’t going out with you for a bet! Gwaine wasn’t even there when we met.”

“Not me, idiot. Annis. He told me you were going to ‘shag a rich bird you met in the bar’ because he’d bet you you couldn’t.”

“That’s not true.” Leon is looking confused. “Gwaine, why would you say that? I was there, Merlin never took you up on the bet.”

“Fucking hell.” Merlin scrubs his hand over his face. “Gwaine, what did I ever do to make you hate me like this?”

“Nothing. I don’t hate you, I swear. I was jealous. I’m sorry.”

“He broke up with me, you bastard. What the hell did you have to be jealous about? you have Leon!”

“It’s what I do, Merlin. I push people away, have you not noticed?”

“Come on, this is enough.” Gwen’s quiet voice cuts through. “I might not approve of what Gwaine did, but he’s my patient and he nearly died tonight. You can all fight it out another day.”

“I really am sorry.” Gwaine’s voice is feeble, Gwen is right. Time to be the bigger man.

Merlin goes over and squeezes his shoulder. “Just take care, alright? This self-destructive thing of yours has to stop.”

“He’s not wrong, Gwaine,” Leon says as they leave the cubical. “I love you, but I can’t keep doing this.”

“Do you want to get breakfast?” Arthur asks as he pulls the curtain closed behind them.

“Arthur…” Gwen starts.

“It’s fine, Gwen. I know you’re just looking out for me, but I’m a big boy.”

She looks between them and sighs. “Look after him,” she says to Merlin. “I had such high hopes for you two back in Ibiza, don’t make me set Morgana on you again.”

“Morgana? What did Morgana do?” Arthur is looking between them with suspicion. 

“Oh, nothing,” Merlin says, rubbing his nose at the memory.

“Don’t eat too much breakfast, lunch is at one,” Gwen says, changing the subject.

“Lunch?” Arthur echoes. “Oh! It’s Christmas! I’d forgotten. Merry Christmas.”

“Merry Christmas. Don’t be late!” She gives him a quick hug.

“Can I bring Merlin?” Arthur asks as Gwen starts to turn away. He turns back to Merlin. “I mean, if you want? You probably have other plans, don’t you? Don’t worry about it, it was just a suggestion.”

“I’d love to come.” Merlin decides to interrupt him before she really works up a steam. “If it’s really ok, with everyone.” He looks at Arthur who nods. “My Mum is a nurse, she’s working today, I’ll go and see her tomorrow.”

“Well, it sounds like we’ll have to let him in, Gwen. Can’t let him be all alone for Christmas.”

“Really? Don’t forget he still works for the enemy.” Gwen narrows her eyes at him.

“Annis? I don’t! I left last month. I work in a pub. Anyway, Annis dropped your father as a client. And she offered Elyan a job. She’s not a bad person.”

“Working in a pub is worse.” Gwen shrugs but there is a small smile on her lips. “Plying people with booze. You are probably the reason half these people are in here.”

“I…”

Gwen and Arthur start laughing. “We’re messing with you, idiot.” Arthur reaches out to ruffle Merlin’s hair. “Come on, let’s get breakfast.”


	4. Epilogue

The White Hart has never looked so good.

Merlin is checking the spirits for at least the millionth time when a pair of arms wind themselves around his waist. “It was all there an hour ago, and half an hour ago, I’m sure it’s all there now,” Arthur says, pressing a kiss to his cheek.

“But have we got enough?” Merlin asks as he lets his boyfriend pull him away.

“Sweetheart, look at me.” Arthur pulls Merin around so they are face to face. “I know hospital workers, against their own advice, drink hard, but you have enough here for ten hospitals, not just the Royal Cam. Your grand opening night will be perfect, and you know it.”

“I know, I just don’t want to let anyone down. I mean, Uncle Gaius invested a lot of money in this place, you put in some of your Mother’s inheritance, Leon and Gwaine made up the difference. If I mess it up, I’ve wasted so many people’s money.”

“You won’t mess up. This place is a goldmine, you said so yourself. We will all make our investments back tenfold. Even Mary used to turn over a tidy profit here, and look at the state she kept it in before Morgana called the Health Board.”

“That was Morgana?” Merlin had been surprised when Mary decided to sell up after she got closed down, but he hadn’t realised who had been behind it.

Arthur nods. “She saw a rat in the ladies’ loo.”

Merlin looks at him in horror. “Shouldn’t someone have told me? Who is going to want to come here now?” 

“Merlin, look at the place, it is barely recognisable. You have all your certificates, everything is new and clean. Most of the people drinking in here are healthcare professionals.”

“They were before,” Merlin points out.

“Look stop worrying, will you? I need you to come upstairs, I have something to tell you.” Arthur tries to usher Merlin towards the stairs up to their flat.

“Something to tell me? You’re not leaving me are you?” Merlin resists being pushed and tries to get Arthur to look at him.

“No, I—”

“Are you two nearly ready?” Gwaine interrupts, barging in from the bar. “The customers are starting to form a queue outside.” 

Merlin makes a sidelong apologetic glance at Arthur and shrugs. “I’ll be right there.” He gives Arthur a quick kiss. “Tell me later. Love you.”

“Knock ‘em dead!” Arthur grins. “Well, maybe not actually dead dead.”

He really needn’t have worried. The place is packed out, and even with all the cocktails they are serving, they have not made too big a dent in the spirit stock. 

Everyone seems to be having a really good time and he and Gwaine are back to their bottle-flying best. Their respective partners are chatting away on the other side of the bar along with Elly and Percy the paramedic, who seem to be getting along well. 

When the time comes for Merlin’s break, he goes and sits next to Arthur, pinching his drink as he does. “So, what did you want to tell me? Is that lemonade?” He wrinkles his nose in disgust.

Arthur glances around at their friends and then back at Merlin. “I’ll tell you later.”

“Well now I’m really intrigued! Can’t you just give me a hint?”

Arthur shakes his head, a funny little secretive smile playing about his lips. “I’ll tell you later, I don’t want to spook you.”

“Spook me? Come on, Arthur, you have to tell me now! I’ll be so worried I’ll drop all the bottles or something.”

Arthur rolls his eyes, still smiling. “Fine then.” He leans over and whispers in Merlin’s ear.

Merlin just stares at him, mouth hanging open.

“Say something then,” Arthur prompts him.

“I’m spooked.”

“I told you.”

Merlin nods slowly before a massive grin breaks out. “I guess we really must be soulmates then.”


End file.
